


When They Returned

by knavessofhearts



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3420746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knavessofhearts/pseuds/knavessofhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(inspired by the tv show: Resurrection) </p><p>The lives of the people of Storybrooke are forever changed when Emma Swan returns to the town where she was born, and their loved ones begin to return from the dead.<br/>Further mysteries and secrets of the town's residents begin to be uncovered as the past & the present combine.  </p><p>(people do die, a lot. but most of them come back)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome To Storybrooke

 

  
_Emma_  
  


 

The strangest day of Emma Swan’s life began with a phone call.

Typically, her average day as a private investigator entailed stakeouts for criminals skipping bail, or tracking down a client’s cheating husband. Today, she was called to a bus terminal outside of Boston to pick up a little boy who was very far from home. A little boy who hadn’t said a word since a bus driver found him asleep in the back of his bus.

The head of security had given the little boy a blanket, two muffins and a Gameboy to keep him entertained until Emma arrived. He couldn’t have been any older than 10, as Emma finally laid eyes on the boy. With short scruffy brown hair and lost blue eyes, wearing a faded red hoodie and jeans with patched over holes in his knees. That was a good sign, Emma thought. Patched jeans meant someone fixed them, that someone cared about him. He belongs to someone. Someone misses him.

Their request for her was quite simple, take responsibility of the boy, hand him over to Child Services, and maintain the bus company’s discretion that they had misplaced this child somewhere along the line. One glance at the small, quiet boy, and the sizeable envelope of cash, Emma agreed to the simple exchange and found an easy day’s pay. She could play babysitter for one day, how hard could it be to drive a mute 10 year old into the city and hand him over?

She decided to take him to get something proper to eat, and they wound up in a diner just outside of the city. The little boy sure had an appetite, and quickly grew tired of his Gameboy and so Emma offered him her iPhone with Candy Crush instead. Between beating her high score and polishing off two plates of waffles, the boy remained as silent and docile as ever. Emma began to wonder if he had been abused in some way, and that was why he refused to speak.

She had seen it before during her days in group homes and in the foster system, even done it herself for two weeks. When it felt like no one was listening, why even bother to speak? Perhaps the boy had run away from a bad home, a bad life, like Emma had done the second she was able to leave. And now here sat across from him, poised to take him back to where he would only get hurt, tossed around and neglected again. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t be a mother, not to this boy, or any child. She didn’t know the first thing about being loved or loving someone. All she’d known was pain.

The boy waved his hand holding her phone impatiently to her, Emma snapped out of her spiral and began to wonder how long he had been trying to get her attention. She saw he had exited out of the game and the note section was now open, Emma assumed he was asking for the game back. As she took the phone back and her finger lingered on the home button, she noticed he had written a single word in a new memo.

“Storybrooke?” she questioned him, and he nodded soundlessly in confirmation.

She glanced back to the one word the boy had communicated, as she looked at the word once again. It could’ve meant anything, perhaps he just wanted to read some fairy tales, but Emma knew in a heartbeat what the word really meant. It was a town, a town she had tried very hard to forget and now came rushing back. It was the town where everything started, where her turbulent and lonely life began. The town on her birth certificate.

“Is that where you came from?” he nodded again.

She had no memory of Storybrooke, she was taken before she even knew how to walk and placed in an orphanage in Boston. The one line in her foster system file was all she had on her parents, and all there was left of them. One sentence she didn’t like to dwell on, because that town was where she was meant to have grown up. Where she was supposed to have been loved and had a home. Instead, all she had was a sentence that told her all she knew about her parents: orphaned at 3 months old, no family; and a baby blanket she had been wrapped in. Her name had been embroidered in bright purple along the edge. She used to take solace that someone had cared enough to knit her a blanket just for her, but now it sat in a box collecting dust. The people who made that blanket were long gone.

One quick search in Google and she was looking at the town where her life should have been. Located in the heart of Maine, with a population of 3,000, it was smaller than a dot on a map- so small and insignificant in comparison to the rest of the world it almost didn’t exist. Yet it did, and this little boy was telling her that was where he was from.

If Emma took him to Social Services, he would never find where he belonged, and would always be lost, like she had been. The person who fixed his jeans wanted him to come home. If this was where he truly belonged, shouldn’t that be her job? Finding this boy somewhere safe where he would be loved? If someone had been there when she was growing up, to fix her jeans, she wouldn’t want anything more than to find them. Deep down she knew, that she would never find them and they would never find her. It was too late for her, but it wasn’t too late for this boy.

“If I take you back to Storybrooke…” Emma posed “Can you promise me that there is somewhere you will be happy and looked after? Can you swear that you have a family there?”

The little boy nodded even more feverishly, and she smiled at him. Emma found a way to communicate with this boy who spoke no words through his eyes. She could see in them a depth and understanding unlike any other. Like this little boy had lived hundreds of years but still held his childlike wonder of the world.  
“Alright then. You owe me big time, kid.” Emma stood from their booth, wrapping herself in her coat and scarf and handing the little boy his own jacket. She was holding the door to her yellow bug open for him to climb on in, when he paused and looked at her as if he was deliberating a very problematic issue in his little mind.

“Henry.” He said, and Emma froze. He looked up at her expectantly before she let go of the door and crouched down to be eye-level with him.

“Henry? Is that your name?” the boy nodded again. Emma smiled, understanding the trust Henry had just bestowed onto her. The little offering of warming up to her, to letting someone in and letting down their walls.

“It’s nice to meet you Henry, I’m Emma.” She beamed and was surprised to see him begin to smile back. She helped him into the car, before they began the long drive to Storybrooke, Maine.

 

 

  
_Mr. Gold_

 

 

It was just another dreary day in the sleepy town that never seemed to wake up, or perhaps he was the one that wasn’t awake. It seemed to feel that way, like he was sluggishly moving through a world that was passing by faster than he could keep up.

Each step, each breath seemed more difficult than the one before, but he had to keep going. If he stopped, for even a moment it would all come back to him, and he didn’t want to remember. He wanted to forget. The world was a black & white hell, the light and all the colour taken from him 28 years ago.

Most days, it was easy to forget, to shut out the pain. But not today, the day that marked the moment his world turned black & white. Each year he visited her and brought her a bouquet of roses to replace the wilted, lifeless ones he laid there before.

He would sweep away any fallen twigs or leaves that scattered across the tombstone, and lay down the flowers for his wife- his hand lingering on the tiny dash between two dates etched in the stone. That small, insignificant line that held such few years- and even fewer that he was able to call her his wife.  
The marble told him she was a beloved daughter, friend and wife- but that couldn’t even begin to describe her, or how much he had loved her. She had been caring, compassionate and selfless- more than simply a daughter or a friend. There would never be enough space in the stone to describe how beautiful her life was, and how lost he was without her.

He could have stayed there all night, curled up beside her as the air grew colder, but he stood slowly and walked the short distance from the cemetery to his home. The home they’d shared for a brief flicker of light, where she sung as she baked and he would smile at her fondly over the top of his newspaper.  
He found his mind wandering through the last 28 years, until it found its way to the memory it was searching for…30 years ago to the day. Back to when this day was celebrated for the first time, not a day that brought Gold unimaginable pain.

~  
Gold had woken to the distinct feeling that someone was watching him intently. When he cautiously opened one, weary eye he was immediately met with an onslaught of wet kisses from a tiny, furry face that was most definitely not his wife. A puppy the size of his hand was standing on his chest and holding itself up to lick him profusely, like a fuzzy alarm clock that wouldn’t relent until you hit snooze and scratch its head.

“Belle?” he had called out once he was free from the attacks of the mysterious puppy that had found its way into their bed. He looked over and saw she wasn’t beside him, but quickly turned his head when she appeared in the doorway, watching him excitedly.

“Good morning, husband!” she chirped and giggled as Gold’s attacker now accidently tumbled off his helpless victim and into a sea of blankets. Finally free, Gold rubbed his eyes and sat up, turning to his wife.

“Good morning, wife.” He returned, and the puppy began demanding more pats. “Why is there a puppy in our bed and not you?” he posed.

Belle shot him a playful glare before she walked the short distance from the door to the bed and kneeled beside Gold.

The tiny ball of fluff became ecstatic when it saw it had a new target to assault with kisses, and Belle laughed so hard when the puppy launched itself onto her face that Gold even joined in when the puppy fell off the side of the bed. They watched as their new family member ran out the door and barking happily as he went off exploring his new home.

“Because he is your anniversary present! Do you like him?” she asked with such enthusiasm it was impossible not to smile along.

“He’s perfect, as are you.” He said fondly, and leaned across the short distance to touch his lips to hers. Belle leaned forward to limit the distance between them and kiss him harder before breaking away with another smile that reached her eyes.

“Happy Anniversary.” Belle whispered with such love, Gold felt like his heart would explode if he didn’t say how much he loved her a thousand times and then a thousand more.

“Happy Anniversary…” he mumbled back against her mouth, their kisses grew hungry and eager- and he wrapped his arms around her before pulling her back onto the bed as she laughed and pretended to swat him.

The rest of the morning was lost between the sheets as the morning light filled every corner of the room; and Gold wouldn’t have had it any other way. He knew in that moment they were going to grow old together, and he wouldn’t spend a second not ever loving her.

~  
Now the rooms were dark and empty as he made his way through it to the study, flicking on the dim light to find his way to the liquor cabinet. He poured a glass of scotch, drank it, then poured another, and poured another until the voices in his head were quiet again.

_It’s your fault. It’s your fault._  
_It’s your fault…_  
_It’s your fau…_  
_It’s y…._  
_I…._

 

  
_Emma_

 

6 hours later, Emma’s bug rolled through the town line of Storybrooke Maine on a rainy, and silent night. Beside her, Henry slept soundly against the window, dead to the world. Emma smiled slightly at him as they rolled through Main Street and she pulled up in front of a small diner with an illuminated sign. As she turned off the ignition she glanced out the window to see if they showed any sign of being open, in desperate need of a coffee. Or perhaps a glass of wine.

“Hey. Kid.” Emma spoke up and poked his shoulder gently to try and stir him awake, and after a few more tries he rubbed his eyes with his fists and sat up.

“We’re here.” She informed in and he looked around them at their surroundings, and the sign of the diner which Emma realised now read “Granny’s Diner”

She opened the door and stood out into the town of Storybrooke, her mind spinning as the town where she was born suddenly had become a reality. Emma didn’t know what she had been expecting or ever imagined about finally finding her way back here, she never thought she would come back. The little time she had spent here as a baby, weren’t exactly happy memories.

Henry joined her by the side of the yellow bug, looking up at her expectantly.

“So…where to now, kid?” Emma folded her arms and asked him, “Where do your parents live?”

“I don’t have parents, just a mom.” Henry informed her, “She adopted me.”

Ah. Emma was starting to put two and two together. “Is that why you ran away?”

Henry suddenly looked very confused by her question. “I didn’t run away,” he said.

Emma knelt down so she could look into his eyes, which seemed to beginning to fill with tears.

“Did someone take you then?” she said softer, wondering what had happened to this poor kid to make him so confused.

“I-I don’t think so…I don’t remember…” Henry struggled, and Emma believed him. Whatever he went through, it was something bad. Emma tried to comfort him through her understanding smile, but he just seemed to be growing even sadder.

“Do you remember where you live? Where your mom is?” he nodded, before mumbling in reply “Miflin Street.”

“Okay then, let’s get you home kid.” Emma said confidently, as she helped him back into the bug as she took one more look at the empty street.  
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this place, she could almost feel a shadow watching her from the dark, before she stepped back into the bug and drove off into the night.

They didn’t drive for long, when they reached Miflin Street and Henry pointed towards the largest house in the street to which Emma pulled up by.

“Wow, nice place you got here.” Emma remarked as she fetched Henry’s few belongings and helped him put on his jacket.

“My mom’s the mayor.” Henry explained as they made their way to the front door, Emma could see a light on inside but no movement.

“You’re the mayor’s kid?” Emma joked and as she raised her hand to knock on the door, but the nagging sensation in her gut made her freeze. She held her hand prised to knock, but let it fall and instead crouched down and held Henry’s shoulders as she tried to find the words to say.

“Listen, Henry. I’m not doing what I was hired to do, I was supposed to take you to Child Services…But I don’t want to do that.” Emma told him, Henry listened intently.

“I’m trusting you, that you didn’t run away or nothing bad will happen if you walk through that door. But if it does…” Emma let go of the boy and fished out a card from her jacket pocket.

“…I want you to call me straight away. Do you promise?”

“I promise, Emma.” Henry swore as he took the card, and Emma gave him a quick hug before she straightened up and knocked twice on the grand door.

After a moment she heard someone walking down the stairs to the door, and when she looked behind her, Emma frowned when she saw Henry had moved to hide behind a bush as they waited for the door to open. Before she could ask him why, the front door flew open and Emma came face to face with the mayor of Storybrooke, a woman with dark hair and sharp, apprehensive eyes.

“May I help you?” she said sharply as she wrapped her robe around her tightly, “It’s the middle of the night I hope you realise.”

“Hi, I’m sorry. My name is Emma Swan, I’m a private investigator.” Emma clarified. The woman seemed to scan her head to toe and only seemed to grow more frustrated by her presence.

“Are you the mayor?” Emma furthered on.

“Yes I am. Regina Mills. And if this is about Mr Hopper’s pet licence I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until morning.” she sarcastically chimed as she went to close the door in Emma's face, but Emma reached out to hold it open.

“Wait! I’m not here about that. I’m here about your son.” Emma tried, and Regina’s harsh stance suddenly softened, and Emma swore she saw a flash of emotion race across her face.

“What did you say?” Regina uttered in a small and fractured voice.

“I have him, he was lost and I brought him home. He’s alright.” Emma said, and waited for Regina to sigh in relief or happiness, but instead she let out a disbelieving laugh.

“If you think this is some kind of practical joke, you have a terrible sense of humour Miss Swan.” She spat out, Emma noticed not in anger- but pain.

“I’m not trying to trick you, he’s right h-”

“Enough.” Regina hissed. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Miss Swan. My son is not missing or lost…he died…two years ago.”

Emma didn’t know how to respond, but she saw in Regina’s tortured expression she was telling the truth. No one could fake the pain of losing a child.

Yet she was convinced without a doubt that the little boy had told her the truth as well, Emma tried to figure out how she had gotten this all wrong. Emma was about to apologise to this woman, take Henry back to Boston and figure it all out- when Henry emerged from behind the bush and stood beside Emma.

Emma could only watch as Regina’s face went from anger, to shock, to confusion and to amazement.

“Henry?” she breathed, and suddenly her eyes filled with tears and the steely exterior she wore for Emma evaporated.

“Mom!” Henry lunged forward and wrapped his arms around a stunned Regina, who began to unfreeze and slowly wrapped hers around Henry before looking up at an equally confused Emma.

“I don't understand. I don’t understand, how is possible?” Regina kept repeating and cried into her son’s shoulder, clutching him tighter and tighter.

Emma tried to put the pieces together, but nothing fell into place. Regina’s son was dead. Henry says she is his mother. Regina’s son is dead. Two years ago. Henry doesn’t remember what happened to him. Henry is Regina’s son. He is dead.

Whatever Emma Swan had stumbled into, she was beginning to realise it was just scratching the surface. Something was off in Storybrooke, a mystery than needed an explanation. She owed it to Henry to uncover what was going on.

 

 

  
_Mr. Gold_

 

Through the rain that now pounded on the windows and felt like nails on a chalkboard in Gold’s ears, he thought he heard the distant sound of a knock on his door. Whoever it was out in the miserable rain, didn’t deserve his attention. Not tonight. Tonight was reserved for his misery and sorrow, and subsequently drowning them in the alcohol and rain.

His drinking continued, burning through bottle after bottle, and the knocking on the door continued as well. His irritation growing, he rose from his chair, more imbalanced and staggering than planned, and stormed through the house to the front door. Whoever it was chose the wrong night to come to his door. Gold was filled with anger, guilt and ten times more alcohol than both combined, and it had nowhere to go but through his fists.

But all that fury inside him disappeared into think air once he opened the door, and revealed the small, soaking figure of a woman with dark hair plastered to her face. The woman looked up at him through her wet and mangy hair, with big blue eyes filled with hope and fear- eyes that Gold had not seen for 28 years but never forgot.

He was dreaming, he had to be. Or the whiskey had knocked him out cold and he had blacked out. No way was he standing here, and seeing those eyes right in front of him right now. It was fate’s some kind of cruel joke on his frazzled brain, a ghost haunting him for all of his mistakes and reminding him of what he lost. What his actions had cost him.

He was the reason he and his wife had never celebrated a third anniversary, Gold was the reason she was out driving during a storm, and that her car went off the road and into the river. She had been on her way to see him, and then she died. He buried her, he mourned her and never broke his promise of loving her for every second of his life.

And now she stood in front of him at his door, wearing the clothes she had picked that morning to wear for their third anniversary they never celebrated. Her face, unchanged by the last three decades where his wore wrinkles and scars and his hair greying.

It was like the last 28 years hadn’t happened, had it all been a dream? Was he now waking up? The pain and grief he had held onto for so long now seemed to not feel real anymore. Gold wasn’t sure what was real and was not anymore. Both scenarios seemed so unlikely, he couldn’t keep his grounding and felt the world being ripped out from under him.

“Nick?” and just like that, her voice shattered through his haze and he broke down.

Both dreams in his head shattered like glass and combined in an instant. It was like reliving every second of his life without her again, all at once, and the realisation she was real, and standing there waiting for him to speak.

He felt himself stumble backwards slightly, and grab the mantelpiece to stop himself falling to the ground. His vision began to blur, and Belle’s eyes grew with tears as well. Gold couldn’t move, he felt frozen in his place as if he made any sudden movement this illusion would shatter and she would disappear again.

Belle took two small, silent steps to stand in front of him, and place her cold hand onto his cheek so lightly he wasn’t even sure it was touching him.

“Nick is that you?” she breathed, and looked at him in wonder, taking in every little detail of his face as she realised he was now older. Much older than the last time she saw him. They had been young lovers, met at 16 & 18 and married at 18 & 20; and now he was old and worn with decades between them when before it had been weeks.

She was still as perfect as the day he met her and he was now an old man.

He mirrored her actions, and placed his other hand on her shoulder, holding onto her and realising she was really there. He could feel her beneath his fingers, solid and whole.

“You’re real…” he said in wonder, “You’re alive.”

She smiled up at him, and tears began to fall down her face as she buried herself into him. He closed his arms tighter around her, wrapping themselves together as if at any moment something would tear them apart. Gold felt the wall around his heart break down and broke down into Belle’s shoulder. He didn’t care how this was possible, what it meant or that it might not last. All that mattered was Belle was alive. Belle was alive. She’s alive.


	2. Old & Familiar Faces

 

 

_Whale_

 

Though technically it was illegal, and intensely frowned upon given the circumstances, most of the people who worked at the hospital turned a blind eye to Dr Victor Whale’s drinking.  He was never drunk, just slightly buzzed, and _definitely_ never operated whilst the whiskey was still in his system. Storybrooke General didn’t see anything more serious than a broken arm, and Dr Whale’s services were rarely needed. So it was the unspoken rule to leave the doctor be in his basement lair unless someone was actually dying.

The small town life was definitely inhibiting to someone with great ambitions like Dr Whale. He had wanted his name to mean something, to stand for something great and purposeful. He thought becoming a doctor would give him that, the power to save lives and bring people back when there was no hope of return. Instead he drank in his office, and occasionally stitched Leroy’s forehead back together after a drunken fall down the stairs.

It hadn’t always been a stagnant existence. Whale had once been excited to come to work and improve the lives of Storybrooke’s citizens. He remembered the joy of giving a new mother her baby boy or girl, or the relief in a family’s faces when he told them their loved one was going to make it.

He lost patients- that was an inevitability in his line of work. But the saves had always outweighed the losses. Whale always saw the good in the lives that he had saved, and that they were able to go on and live long and happy lives thanks to him.

 Until the scales tipped. The tears of joy became tears of grief. The walk to the waiting room felt like he was walking to his death and the phrase “I’m sorry for your loss” rolled off his tongue too easily for his liking. It was just the way things were, some you save some you lose. The feeling of regret that he could have done more weighed heavily on him, whether he had any chance of helping those lost causes or not, he carried each death with him. You can only get kicked down so many times before it’s almost unbearable to get back up.

~

Whale started keeping a bottle in his desk on December 23rd, 2007. It was almost Christmas, and another Christmas alone for Whale. He didn’t mind it, he never felt alone and there was always a place for him at Granny’s. Normally he’d visit the graves of his father and brother and pay his respects as he had done since he was 13. This year, he told himself he’d spent enough time dwelling in the past and wouldn’t visit them. They would’ve understood. His life was moving on, and he couldn’t live with their shadows over him anymore.  

 He finished his shift at the hospital around 11:30pm, and walked home from work past Main Street as he did every night. Whale was used to walking down these streets alone, most of Storybrooke’s residents all sound asleep. He somewhat enjoyed walking through the empty streets, it seemed to quieten his mind after a hectic day of surgeries and consultations.

Whale stopped short just outside of Gold’s pawn shop, when he saw a lone figure standing expectantly at the bus stop. In all his years he had spent in Storybrooke, he’d never once seen a bus enter or leave this town. Whatever this person was waiting for, Whale had the impression it would never come.

As he crossed the street, a sharp and icy breeze made him pull his coat closed tighter around him, and as he approached the lone figure he realised who it was.

Though he’d spent almost every Christmas, Easter and New Years with her since he was 12, he’d never really ever spoken to her. He’d been afraid to talk to her or let her get close. Or perhaps just not realising how distant he had made himself with his work, and he was used to being around others but not really being with them.

Whale had always thought she was like him, someone meant for much more than a small town. A wolf among sheep. He’d overheard enough of her conversations at the diner or The Rabbit Hole, to know that she wanted to leave this town and explore the world, yet could never quite cross the town line. Something held her back, but now she stood prised at the eternally empty bus stop with a suitcase in hand.

“Ruby?”

She turned to face the direction of where she heard her name being called, as Whale reached the other side of the road and stood a short distance from her. Ruby smiled slightly as she realised who it was, and awkwardly fidgeted with the handle of her suitcase.

“Dr Whale? What..what are you doing here?” Ruby stuttered and tried to hide her vibrant red suitcase behind her.

“Night shift at the hospital.” He explained, jerking his head back in the direction he came, and Ruby seemed to relax slightly, and look up and down the street for the bus that would never come.

“Right…of course.” She said, and started watching her shuffling feet, avoiding Whale’s gaze.

“You alright? Did you get in another fight with Granny?” he asked her. Her disputes with her grandmother had never really been quiet, and it was a small town. Whale knew both the ladies, so very alike that they clashed almost every day.

“Yeah…it was pretty bad.” Ruby admitted, finally looking back up to Whale.

“Hey, c’mon. I’m sure it was about nothing, she’ll calm down. She always does.” Whale reassured Ruby, who gave him a soft, grateful smile.

“I know. The day I can’t handle Granny is the day I leave town.” She laughed, before realising what she had said, “Which is….today.” 

Whale didn’t really know what to say, he didn’t know Ruby terribly well, but he knew her well enough to know she was already second guessing her decision.

“Where are you going to go?” Whale questioned. Ruby opened her mouth to reply, when he saw her realise she didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know, I’m just….I’m sick it of here, Vic.” She sighed and dropped her suitcase.

“I want more than this life, I want to see the world and find lemurs! There’s more to this world than the diner and arguing with Granny!” Ruby waved her hands around her before she leaned against a pole and hung her head.

“…lemurs?” Whale raised an eyebrow, and was met by a stern scorn from Ruby.

“You know what I mean.” Ruby said, and Whale let out an icy breath before he walked over and leaned against the other side of the pole next to Ruby.

“I do know what you mean, Ruby. I feel the same way sometimes.” He admitted.

“So why don’t you leave? What’s keeping you here?” Ruby enquired and looked up at him. Whale knew one version of his answer to that, one he didn’t care to admit nor ever would as he looked at her.

“I don’t know.” He lied, and smiled at her. “Maybe I want a change, but that doesn’t always mean a change of scenery.” He told her.

 He couldn’t pretend he’d never considered asking Ruby out for a drink, or thought about the possibility of them as more than casual acquaintances, but the possibility was always _there_. Whale didn’t know if he liked the idea of having someone or the idea of having her, but he wouldn’t lie that a small part of him wanting to stay in this town because he loved the way she smiled or brought him his order at the diner with extra blueberries.

“You’re right, I know.” Ruby said and pushed herself off the pole and went to pick her suitcase back up off the ground.

“I want something else, I know that, but maybe not some _where_ else.” Ruby pondered. “Maybe I just need to do a little spring cleaning!” she added as a joke and turned to walk away.

“Wait! Ruby, wait.” He jogged the short distance to catch her by her arm gently and turn her around. Ruby paused as she waited for Whale to….well, Whale wasn’t quite sure what he was about to do but it probably wasn’t a good idea. He shook off whatever thought had been dancing around in his head and returned to reality.

“Let me drive you home, my car’s not far.” He offered. In all honesty, his car was still at home, but from here it was an insignificant distance compared to the journey back to Granny’s home on the outskirts by the woods Ruby was facing.

“Oh, thanks but I’ll be okay.” Ruby said and Whale let his hand drop, only realising now that he was still touching her.

“I think I need the walk to clear my head, figure out how I’m going to apologise to Granny for calling her Norman Bates’ mother.” She laughed and Whale joined in.

“Wow….that bad huh?” Whale asked and Ruby nodded with a lingering smile.

“Thank you though, Vic. I’ll be alright. See you around.” She promised before she rolled her little red suitcase in the direction of the closed down library. He waited until she was out of his sight and swallowed by the night before he turned back onto his original path and made his way home. 

Whale thought nothing else about the night’s events as he got home and settled down for the night, but could not get rid of a nagging feeling in his gut that something was wrong. He tried to shake it off, but something didn’t feel right. It was almost 1am, but he knew Ruby was a night owl and would still be awake. He just needed to make sure she was alright, even if nothing was wrong. Just to hear her voice.

Whale’s thumb hovered over the dial button as he was interrupted by his pager going off on the kitchen counter. He was technically on call tonight, but the nurses only paged him for serious accidents or immediately needed surgeries. He sighed in disappointed as he closed his cell phone, grabbed his wallet and keys and made the mad dash back to the hospital.

He arrived at the same time the ambulance did, and was met by the onslaught of nurses and paramedics who upon seeing Whale, immediately gave him the rundown on the patient as they raced past him.

_“Female, mid-twenties, car vs pedestrian. Multiple fractures and contusions, internal bleeding with suspected spinal….”_

They kept talking around him as they wheeled the stretcher into the ER, but he couldn’t hear them as his ears started ringing and his vision blurred at the sides.

He felt as though someone had stuck their hand into his chest and was crushing his heart with an iron fist as the paramedics and nurses moved the motionless figure from the stretcher onto a bed. They started to plug an EKG and central line into her chest, and someone asked him what he wanted to do now. All Dr Whale wanted to do right that moment was collapse onto the floor when the monitor started to beep deafeningly and alarms started to go off.

One of the nurses brushed back her hair and put an oxygen mask over her, and something inside of Whale snapped back like an elastic band as his brain finally registered what his eyes were seeing.

He’d seen her less than hour ago, it was only an hour ago and she was fine. Now she was in his ER, spiralling down the drain as the triage nurse charged the defibrillator. This couldn’t be happening. He’d offered to drive her home, but she said she would be alright. And he believed her. Ruby was always so strong and resilient, nothing could break her. Ruby was dying, how did this happen?

“Nurse. Give me the paddles.” He ordered and shoved her out of the way, taking charge and focusing all his energy into one goal. Save Ruby. He wasn’t going to let her die, she wasn’t supposed to die yet. She still hadn’t seen the world. She still hadn’t found her lemurs. Ruby can’t die. He still needs to tell her.

The shock to her heart made no change, and Whale still couldn’t find a pulse, the machine’s still blaring and drowning out the ringing in his ears. He screamed to charge the paddles again, as he kept her heart beating with his hands until they were ready. Another shock, still nothing. He charged them again, and he felt one of the nurses putting a hand on his shoulder and telling him it was too late, but he didn’t listen. He wouldn’t give up on her. He couldn’t lose her.

Another hand switched off the machine showing the unwavering flat line, but Whale still kept his hands moving up and down to beat for Ruby’s failing heart. Even when his arms began to ache, or he felt hot tears dashing across his face, he couldn’t stop. Knowing the second his hands would be still was realising that Ruby was gone. He was the only reason her heart was still beating, the only thing stopping her from being dead. He had to keep going.

Whale wasn’t sure how long he had been giving compressions, or when his arms had stopped moving, until behind him he heard someone call time of death. Suddenly, the room was empty, and it was just Whale standing by the side of the girl he couldn’t save. She looked so small and helpless, lying on the bed with only one blanket. She needs another blanket, Whale thought. He remembered she used to always complain how cold the weather was in Storybrooke, and he’d always joke that was because she was wearing shorts in November.

His hands were covered with her blood, and he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t understand. He was a doctor, he was meant to save people. Why couldn’t he save her? The one person he needed to stay alive in this world, who was now gone because of him.

He couldn’t be there anymore, so he ran. Whale wasn’t sure where he was running to, all he knew was that he had to run or else he would fall to the ground and never get back up. He ran until he reached the docks and couldn’t run anywhere else. Whale fell to his knees and finally let the sobs shake through his chest. This was all his fault, he did this to her.

The next day, he bought the bottle of whiskey that lived in the bottom drawer of his desk. He couldn’t attend the funeral, not when he felt everyone’s eyes accuse him of what he already blamed himself for-What ate at him from the inside out. The agonizing, never-ending guilt that had swallowed him whole.

He should have driven her home. 

_~_

_Emma_

 

Emma wasn’t exactly sure how events conspired in the next twenty minutes that followed, but somehow she found herself sitting on the couch in the Mayor of Storybrooke’s mansion with a very strong glass of apple cider. She sat prised on the edge of the seat, unsure of what to make of her current predicament, and what the hell she was doing here. All she was meant to do was drop the boy off, then get back to her real life. Now she sat in the middle of the most awkward episode of Dr Phil.

Henry sat across from her, still captivated by Candy Crush on Emma’s phone, as Regina spoke to a man she’d introduced as her ‘friend’ named Robin, in the kitchen out of earshot- but not out of sight. Emma watched as Regina tried to explain to her friend, who was clearly anything but, what had just happened.

Clearly this wasn’t some joint hallucination between Emma and Regina. When Robin had taken one look at Henry and immediately recognised him too. Now Emma saw as Regina finally gave up trying to make sense of it all and leaned her head against Robin’s chest as he rubbed her back comfortingly. Emma saw no rings, but could tell it was more than a boyfriend-girlfriend fling in the way she looked at him and the pain he wore on his face for her. 

Finally, simply sitting down became too uneasy and Emma had to stand and walk around the spacious and luxurious living room. It was immaculately kept, down to the crystal bowl that held fresh red apples Henry had already demolished three of.

One quick scan of the room and Emma noticed there wasn’t a single photo frame in the room, and she hadn’t spied any in the foyer either. Emma’s immediate impression of Henry’s mother was that she was a cold and hard woman, until she realised this was a woman who had lost a son and possibly even more. Loss changes people, Emma understood, and not always for the better.

Out of sight, Emma heard the front door open and close as a man with a leather jacket and dishevelled hair marched into sight, who halted in his tracks when his eyes discovered Emma standing awkwardly at the entrance to the living room. Emma suddenly felt very out of place and tried to fix her own red leather jacket and tuck her hair behind her ears.

“Um…Hi.” Emma tried, and the man seemed to only grow more confused by her being there.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” he said in an accented, husky voice, and Emma glanced down to his belt as a flash of metal caught her eye. The Sherriff of Storybrooke it seemed.

“I’m Emma. Swan.” She added and held out her hand that was free of the cider she felt she would be needing very soon as the Sherriff took her hand.

“You’re the woman who brought Henry back.” he surmised.

“The one and only.” Emma jested and the Sherriff let out a small laugh and scratched the back of his neck.

“Name’s Graham, I’m the Sherriff. Regina called me.” He explained, and Emma glanced back to check on Henry- who remained just as oblivious as any 10 year old boy is with technology.

“So that’s him.” graham said quietly, whose eyes locked on the back of the small boy’s head, Emma watched as he too seemed to grapple with what he was really seeing and what he knew to be true. People don’t just come back from the dead. Yet here he was.

“Did you know him?” Emma asked and leaned against the wall, Graham broke his gaze and shook off his astonishment.

“I remember when Regina adopted him at 3 weeks old. Saw him grow up, his entire life.” Graham breathed. “I was there when Regina found out he was dead.”

Emma looked down and twirled the glass in her hand, suddenly wishing for something stronger.

“How did he die?” Emma asked carefully, she wasn’t sure how sensitive the topic was going to be, and from the kitchen Emma swore she could have heard Regina crying.

Graham took another look over to Henry, and then beckoned Emma to join him in the study adjacent to the hallway. He closed the door behind him and Emma sat down at the chair by the desk.

“Henry was always an adventurous boy.” Graham began, as he opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of scotch. He poured a glass and offered it to Emma, who abandoned the cider and accepted the replacement as Graham poured another one for himself.

“He always got himself into all sorts of trouble. Climbing the tallest trees in Storybrooke, camping in the forest…One time I got a call to the station and walked outside to see Henry had climbed onto the top of the clock tower. Regina grounded him for a month.” Graham reminisced and Emma laughed.

“Sounds like a typical kid.” Emma remarked.

“He was,” Graham replied solemnly. “One day…Henry snuck out to the old mines outside of town. The kids in town used to always explore them and hang out down there, until it got too dangerous and I had to rope it off. Regina forbade Henry from ever going in there, but that only made him want to go there more. He snuck out one day and climbed down there…” Graham paused and Emma sat up, realising where this story would end.

“The mine collapsed, no one was ever sure what caused it, but it was just a time bomb that would have gone off at any moment.” Graham ended and couldn’t go on. Emma didn’t need to hear anymore.

“And Regina…” Emma pondered.

“She changed after losing him, like she was before.” Graham commented, deep within a memory.

“Before?”

“Before she had Henry.” Graham clarified. “Before she adopted him she was engaged, to one of my friends from high school, Daniel.”

Engaged? Emma remembered the lack of photos in the house, no wedding ring or even a tan line on Regina’s finger, and even Graham’s sadness at the new subject of discussion.

“What happened to him?”

“Died of cancer, Stage 4 lung cancer. I saw Regina turn from this woman with such an open heart…to someone who thought they could never find happiness again. Then she found Henry, and she started to become herself again…”

“…and then she lost him too.” Emma whispered, and suddenly she could see how hard this woman’s poor life had been. Someone who tried their hardest to be happy, only to keep having that happiness taken from them again and again. Emma couldn’t imagine losing one, let along two people she loved. Though the amount of people she had ever let close enough to know her, she could count on one hand.

Through the half opened door, Emma glanced out to see Regina and Robin return to the living room, and Regina cautiously approach her lost son as Robin watched on.

“She met Robin in a grief support group, he lost his wife some years ago as well. They are good for each other, they’ve helped and understood each other more than anyone else could.” Graham reflected.

They sat in a solemn silence for a while as they listened to Regina as Henry if he wanted anything else to eat, and Robin agreeing to make a cheese toastie.

“Do you believe all this? I mean- how is this even possible?” Emma asked Graham, who poured another scotch.

“To be honest, I don’t know what to believe Miss Swan.” Graham said honestly, “But I know what I see, and that boy is Henry without a doubt. Whatever brought him back…it’s a miracle.”

“Makes you wonder why though, doesn’t it?” Emma questioned. “Why now…”

“Storybrooke has lost many people over the years” Graham said, “Maybe this is God’s way of giving back what was lost.”

Emma wasn’t really one to believe in God or faith, she was a firm believer in evidence and cold hard facts. Even this, was enough to shake her understanding of how the world works, and that there was definitely more than what could be rationally explained.

 

“ _SHERRIFF! MISS SWAN GET IN HERE!”_ Regina’s screams flew through the walls and Graham and Emma launched themselves at a run back to the living room. Regina was crouching over Henry, who was seizing on the floor as Regina tried to roll him onto his side.

“We have to get him to the hospital.” Robin said frantically as Regina started calling out Henry’s name and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, Emma’s phone lay discarded with Candy Crush still open.

“The patrol car’s right out the front.” Graham directed and Robin swooped down and bundled up the unconscious Henry and the four of them raced out of the house. In front of her, Emma heard Regina whisper under her breath.

_“I can’t lose him again.”_

_~_

 

_Whale_

 

The last two days in Storybrooke had brought more gossip than Whale had heard over his entire life living in this town. In a town where it was controversial if Whale didn’t mow his lawn, the uproar over one stranger rolling into town in a yellow bug was astronomical- especially given her passenger.

Whale remembered the day the little boy died in the mine collapse, and it had been a sensitive topic, especially given it was the Mayor’s son.  “… _truly tragic…an unfortunate accident…why did no one block off the mine…”_ everyone had had an opinion or something to say, but nothing with sentiment. Such events were so rare that no one really knew what to do or say, and stuck with the same recycled lines that really gave no comfort to anyone but the people saying them.

Whale had been the one to pronounce him dead, sign the death certificate and even attended the funeral. Everyone in Storybrooke had. Whale couldn’t mask his surprise, when Regina, the sheriff and a mystery blonde came rushing into the ER that night with little Henry Mills- very much alive.

He was no longer seizing, and Whale couldn’t find anything physically wrong with him, apart from the fact he died two years ago. Regardless of that, he was fine and there was no clear reason why he had a seizure. It wasn’t as though Whale had anything to go off, his medical degree didn’t cover treating seizures on the supposedly dead.

Whale gave him fluids, his blood pressure stabilised and Whale declared him a healthy, but tired, 10 year old boy. He admitted him for observation overnight, and prescribed Regina with 50cc’s of Pinot Noir per minute. That was meant to be the end of this strange, night shift-turned morning, but no sooner had he shrugged off his lab coat, his pager went off and he was pulling it back on again.

He couldn’t explain it, no one could, not even the woman who had brought him back to Storybrooke, and Henry wasn’t the only one. Ever since this woman crossed the line, others had come back. As soon as Whale had finished treating Henry, Emma and Sherriff Graham appeared and told him that there were at least 12 people in the waiting room accompanied by their lost loved ones who had all returned since last night.

Suddenly, the doctor who couldn’t save lives was now shredding death certificates and giving people a clean bill of health and a second chance at life. Whale couldn’t uncover why or how these people were coming back, but this was enough for him. Everyone deserved a second chance, regardless if they died at 10 or 80. Which is how Whale caught himself glancing up at the waiting room every time he finished with one returned, for that one face he hoped would be hidden amongst the crowd. The next face would enter, and it wouldn’t be her, and he would swallow his disappointment and pretend he hadn’t been looking for her.

Eventually, he was able to escape the hospital and retreat back into his misery. Whale was thankful for all the people who had been able to reunite with those they’d lost, but couldn’t help but question why they got to come back and others didn’t. Everyone did deserve a second chance, so why not her?

 

Whale walked as fast as he could past the diner, hoping to avoid as many people as possible, and almost collided with a hooded figure waiting by the bus stop. At the last second he avoided running into them, and didn’t give them a second glance before continuing on his way.

“You got a better chance of hell freezing over than a bus coming by.” He scoffed at them.

“Why, Satan turn down the A.C.?” her voice called out and Whale felt his blood turn to ice and his shoes fill with lead.

He was afraid to turn around, for reality to be nothing more than a cruel trick on his mind, afraid for what he wanted to have actually happened. Because he never thought about what he would say to her if he ever got the chance again, what he would do or how he would react. He only hoped blindly that fate would fix his mistake.

Whale finally found the courage to turn around, and Ruby stood watching him with a sly smile like it was just another typical day, like the last 4 years had never happened.

“What? You going shy on me doctor?” Ruby joked, and Whale felt his feet pull him towards her, as his brain searched for the words to say to her.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?” Ruby asked as she saw his shocked expression, and started to fidget with her jacket.

“Ruby…” was all he could conjure, and she gave him a soft grin.

“Who else would it be?” Ruby asked him and Whale closed his eyes and shook his head, and was surprised when he opened them again and Ruby still stood in front of him.

“You’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in months, Vic.” Ruby said, concern seeping through her bubbly persona. Whale realised, that she wasn’t pretending like no time had passed.

“You…you don’t remember?” Whale faltered.

“Remember what?”

Suddenly telling the family of a patient that they had died seemed so incredibly easy. How do you tell a breathing, living person that they died four years ago??

“Vic, you’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on? Did you drunk-makeout with Ashley again?” Ruby laughed but quickly sensed the time for jokes had passed. Whale took her by the arm and led her around the corner and to the bench outside of the library.

“Ruby…you were in a car accident, do you remember that?” he asked her. Ruby took a moment to reply, he could see her eyes searching and finding a foggy memory.

“Yeah….I was…I was heading home to Grannys.” Ruby recalled. “But I was fine, I went home.”

Whale bit his lip, how was he going to do this...He watched her die, right in front of him, and now he had to tell her the truth. Whale took her hand, and tried to comfort her before he threw the next blow.

“Ruby…that was four years. You didn’t make it home…You didn’t make it home.” He broke down, and Ruby’s ears started filling with tears. Suddenly, Whale saw something click- the connection in her memories that had been lost on her way back to this world fell back into place.

“I died…didn’t I?” she whispered, and Whale felt his sobs catch in the back of his throat, and could only managed to nod in affirmation. He squeezed her hand tighter and fought the urge to wipe the tear from her cheek.

“What am I going to do?” She cried, and all he could think to do was squeeze her hand tighter.  

He wasn’t there for her four years ago, and it had haunted him every day. Now he had the chance to be there for her now, to fix his mistake. Whatever she needed, he would be there for. This was his second chance as much as hers.

“It’s going to be okay, Ruby. I promise. I won’t leave you again.” Whale swore, and Ruby nodded through her gentle sobs. They sat at the bench for as long as Ruby needed, until she felt ready to go forward. Whale wasn’t sure where it would go from here, but for the first time in four years he didn’t feel the urge to run or to drink. He felt his feet firmly on the ground, and his place beside Ruby.

 

_~_

_Emma_

 

After 48 hours in Storybrooke, and 5 hours of sleep, Emma felt the strong desire for two things: pancakes and to get the hell out of dodge. Since she’d stepped foot in this town, people had been returning from the dead left, right and centre. Sheriff Graham had been informed of at least 18, and the calls were still coming through the station.

Emma didn’t know what to do, she was beginning to feel in over her head. Whenever something got too hard in her life, or too close, she ran. She moved away and moved on. Yet all day, she found herself looking for reasons to stay. The mystery of the returned and the huge, looming “how and why” should have been enough, for any other investigator it would be, but Emma needed another reason. A reason she didn’t know yet. Just that leaving felt like a mistake, yet staying didn’t feel right either.

Her whole life, Emma had been one foot in of the life she wanted to have and one foot poised to run in the opposite direction. She wanted to find the place that made her want to stay still, and not run anymore.

This town, should be the logical answer to where her home should be. This was the town she was born in, destiny was blaring a huge, neon sign at Emma that this was where she was meant to be.

Why else would Henry have been assigned to her? It was too big of a coincidence, that he would bring her back to the town she was born in. It still wasn’t enough, though the pancakes did argue a strong case.

If she hit the road now, she would still be able to get back to her apartment in Boston before the sun came up, and start the day back in her old life. As much as Emma felt the need to stay, it was just that which made her want to go. Her fear of losing something she wanted always trumped her desire to want it in the first place.

Emma left two twenty’s by her empty plate, not waiting for the change as she made for the door. She got as far as putting on her jacket and hand on the door, when she saw a young woman sitting alone in a booth by the window of the diner, looking as though she had just been crying.  Emma knew she should leave, that it wasn’t her business and she didn’t even know the woman, but she felt a strange compulsion pull her hand from the doorknob and shuffle her feet over to the woman.

She was dressed in soft and warm pinks, a floral dress and simple cardigan, and her jet black hair styled in a classic pixie cut. When she saw Emma approach her, she quickly wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and fixed her hair. She seemed oddly familiar to Emma, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“Hey…” Emma started, and stood awkwardly away from the woman, suddenly second guessing her decision to come over. “You alright?”

The woman seemed taken aback by the random act of kindness, staring at Emma for a second longer than Emma felt comfortable. She began to think maybe there was some blueberry on her face or something, until the woman seemed to shake out of it.

“Oh! No-no, I’m well…as okay as can be expected, I suppose. Given the circumstances.” The woman said, and Emma slid into the booth across from her.

Emma finally figured out how she knew this woman, she had been in Dr Whale’s waiting room with another man, waiting to be checked out with the others this morning.

“You’re a returned?” Emma guessed, and the woman smiled.

“Is it that obvious?” she asked Emma.

“Less obvious than the guy who came back from the 19th century.” Emma told her and the woman laughed.

“You were with the sheriff this morning at the hospital, weren’t you? You’re the private investigator everyone was talking about.”

“Yeah, I was uh-“Emma tried to find an explanation as to what exactly her purpose was here, and found nothing. Yet another piece of evidence why she shouldn’t stay.  


“I saw you there, you were with a man, in the plaid shirt…What was your name again?” Emma inquired

“Mary-Margaret. That was my husband David.” She clarified.

“Where is he now?”

“Talking with the Sherriff…” Mary-Margaret suddenly went very quiet, and Emma saw her eyes start to glaze over again.

“He’s looking for our daughter.” Mary-Margret explained. “She was with us when we…died. But when we came back yesterday, she wasn’t with us.” The tears that had been steadily building up as she spoke suddenly spilled over and Mary-Margaret tried to locate her handkerchief but came up empty.

“Here.” Emma pulled out her own from her pocket and offered it to the woman, wishing she could be of more help.

“Thank you. I’m sorry about all this, it’s just that she’s just a baby. She’s only 3 months old, and she must be all alone and afraid.” Mary-Margaret cried and Emma took her hand and held it lightly.

“I’m sure she’s okay, someone will find her soon.” Emma attempted to assure her. “If you want, I could stop by the Sheriff’s station and see if there’s any news.”

“You would? Oh, thank you so much!” Mary-Margaret implored, and Emma slid out of the booth and zipped up her jacket- preparing to leave after this one, final task.

“Could you tell them, that she was wrapped in a woollen blanket with purple along the edge? Maybe it will help them find her…”

Emma was a master at not showing her emotions, and keeping them firmly hidden behind her walls, but Emma was caught off guard by Mary-Margaret’s last piece of information, and rushed to cover her face falling into disbelief. Emma fought against her memory as her mind flew back to her apartment in Boston, to her closet and the box underneath her shoes, to the faded and worn baby blanket she had kept for her entire life.

“Purple…along the edge?”

“Yes, with her name.” Mary-Margaret added. “Her name is Emma.”

The ground beneath her seemed to vanish, and it took all of Emma’s concentration to focus on this woman’s face filled with hope and gratitude rather than fall to the floor hyperventilating. Emma willed herself to stop her brain from drawing the connections, but failed.

Wool blanket. Purple. Orphan. Emma. Parents died. Born in Storybrooke. Her name is Emma.

She couldn’t stop herself as she scanned Mary-Margaret’s blue eyes and the shape of her chin, was she seeing just what she wanted to see? Was Emma so desperate for this coincidence to be real was she planting evidence and facts for herself to find?

Was she looking at her mother?

“Thank you so much, Miss….” Mary-Margaret’s voice broke through Emma’s haze, and she put the walls around her emotions back up until she could process them later.

“Swan. Detective Swan.” Emma finished, and rushed from the diner before the wall would fall back down. She didn’t go to the Sheriff’s station, there was no need. There was no missing baby.

Emma was the missing baby, only she hadn’t been missing. She grew up and became Emma Swan, and Emma Swan had returned to Storybrooke, so did the parents she lost and never knew. She walked until she couldn’t keep the walls up anymore, and felt them disintegrate into nothing.

Her parents were alive, and she had been sitting across from the woman she had spent her entire life imagining what she would be like. Her father was walking around this very town, the father she thought would never know her, right this minute looking for his lost baby daughter.

What did that make Emma? Mary-Margaret had said that the baby had died the same night as them…did that make her a returned too? But how could it be, if the returned only starting coming back two days ago. Emma was 28 years old! Their baby was 3 months old.

Emma suddenly looked up, and saw that she had walked down the dark alleyway to the Bed & Breakfast behind the diner.

She had been looking for a reason to stay, for the one thing that would make her want to stop running and this was it. It was impossible, didn’t make sense and was a shot in the dark, but maybe…just maybe….there was a chance Emma had found her family. They could be her parents!

Emma needed to find out more, to understand more about the returned. When and where they came back. She needed more answers without giving herself unrealistic hope. She couldn’t let herself believe until she was certain they were her parents, before she told them who she was.

Emma booked a room for a week. Just a week.


	3. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold re-customises himself to Belle's presence again, as she begins to fall back into her old life.   
> Regina learns that Henry wasn't alone the day he went into the mines and seeks out Sheriff Graham & Emma to find out who was there and if they were responsible.   
> David & Mary-Margaret offer Emma a place to stay while she investigates their missing daughter, and cautiously accepts to learn more about her possible parents.

 

_Mr Gold._

 

Gold slept alone, it was the only way he’d known how for all his life, and the only way he liked it. He couldn’t fall asleep if there was someone beside him, it felt so strange and uneasy to be sharing a bed with someone. He wouldn’t sleep, because it would be too hot with the extra body heat, or too cold because they would hog the sheets. Gold liked having control, even as he slept, and some barrier to privacy. It was the last frontier to intimacy, something he’d always shied away from.

 It had taken one night with Belle sleeping soundly on his chest to change all that. Suddenly, he didn’t want to fall asleep so as to waste one perfect second looking at her sleeping form. The relaxed and serene look on Belle’s face as she snored so softly and adorably. Eventually, he couldn’t fall asleep without her there, without her warmth or silky curls brushing his body.  

Without her, the bed felt empty.   
Everything had felt empty and soon enough, all Gold could feel were the voids she left behind. Many years passed before he could sleep soundly in an empty bed again, and he only occupied the essential rooms in their expanse home to block out the other empty spaces in his life. Now, the world seemed fuller again, almost too much so. He’d grown so used to the emptiness inside him and his world.   
As soon as Belle had stepped back in and over the threshold- he felt almost claustrophobic.

He’d given her space the first night, and she had slept the entirety of the following day, Gold not knowing what to do but hover and occasionally pop his head into the bedroom to make sure she was still there. He had no idea where they went from here, where do you go when your wife comes back from the dead?

On the second night, Gold peeked his head into the room once more and saw Belle still sleeping soundly. He began to worry something was wrong, but was too afraid to take her to the hospital and out of his protection. What if this was all a hallucination, and it would shatter the moment they left this house?  
He made his way back down to the study, and poured a small glass of whiskey. Not to get drunk, he had been in the bottom of bottles for long enough, but to calm his fears and stop his hands from shaking.

How could this be possible? How could she come back not a day older than when she left this world? Why now? What had changed? Too many questions rattled his brain to even begin to try and answer one of them, instead he fell asleep on the couch. Wanting to keep a respectful distance from Belle, and partly because he knew he would never fall asleep if he was beside her.

The next morning, Gold made himself breakfast like any typical day, and it almost seemed like any other normal, lonely day apart from his repeated glances to the stairs and listening for any movement upstairs. He’d just finished cooking eggs and pouring his juice, when he turned around and saw Belle watching him with a smile from the doorway. Her smile switched to a look of a startled deer when Gold dropped the glass jug, sending orange juice and glass spilling onto the tiles.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Belle rushed forward grabbing a towel to help Gold clean up. Gold hesitated when Belle crouched down beside him, the closest they had been since she came home, and grimaced when he saw her notice his apprehension.

“It’s alright,” Gold hushed, as he swept up the glass remnants and put them in the sink. “I’m just not used to someone being here again is all.” He was trying to be honest, and he was a little out of his element.   
Having her back was a blessing, but also a curse. It was a constant reminder how alone he had been for almost 3 decades, how much he’d forgotten her.

He turned his back and began to make more food for Belle, and they sat down to have breakfast together. Gold couldn’t remember the last time they’d had breakfast together, something that should be so normal and natural to a married couple, and Gold couldn’t remember what to do. What to talk about. They ate in silence, Belle occasionally looking at Gold expectantly. He sensed she wanted to ask him something, and kept changing her mind.

Eventually, the distraction of breakfast was over and the conversation couldn’t be avoided any longer.   
Gold considered sitting back down at the table with Belle, instead he stayed leaning by the counter. Belle pulled her legs up underneath her on the chair, and looked around the room and doorways.

“Where’s Thoreau?” Belle asked, taking Gold by surprise mid-coffee gulp.

“I believe in the study on the third shelf.” Belle smiled cheekily at him and shook her head. He knew she wasn’t referring to a book or author, she was talking about their anniversary gift.

“You know what I mean, our puppy, the one I got for our second anniversary. Where is he?” Belle looked up with her glowing eyes, and Gold grimaced in pain. He couldn’t pretend any longer, and he definitely couldn’t lie to her. He walked over and sat across from her, instinctively taking her hand and her weaving her fingers between his.

“Sweeheart…” Gold said softly, looking at their intertwining hands rather than Belle’s expectant eyes. If he looked into her eyes he knew he wouldn’t be able to get through this.

“Thoreau’s buried in the backyard, under his favourite tree.” He heard Belle inhale in shock, and began to sniffle.

“He died? But he was only a puppy!”

“Belle…he died when he was 12 years old.” Gold finally looked up to Belle, whose eyes were already filled with tears, and Gold felt the anchor of the truth weigh down his next words, afraid to unload them onto Belle’s soft heart.

“He died 12 years after you, Belle.”            
                                                       

Belle pulled her hand away from his, and wrapped them around herself. Gold watched as the information bounced around her head, almost unaware of the tears spilling down her cheeks. He fought the urge to wipe them away and Belle stood up and began pacing the room.

“That’s why you look so much older, why our house looks so different…” Belle realised, staring at the fridge, the kettle, the large flat-screen tv in the living room visible from the kitchen. Everything that had changed and moved on in her absence. All the signs and tell-tales the world had kept spinning, everything except Gold. Belle wasn't stupid, in fact she was the smartest person Gold had known, she knew she had died. She knew time had passed. What was the sad truth, was that it had been almost a lifetime.

“Nick…how long was I de…..how long was I gone?” she asked carefully, and Gold looked away, slamming his eyelids shut to stop his own tears from falling. He felt Belle lean down beside him, and her delicate hand gracing his leg.

“Nick, _please._ I need to know. How long?” she pleaded, and he nodded slowly.

“Twenty-eight years.” Gold whispered, and Belle breathed out in resignation.

“All that time…twenty-eight years here you were alone. All that time you were alone?” Belle cried, Gold turning to her in disbelief. That was what struck her? That _he_ had been alone for 28 years? Had she thought he would even consider moving on? He would never have done so even if he thought it were possible. His sobs escaped him, and he reached to rest his hand against Belle’s wet cheek.

“Oh, Belle. I would gladly endure another twenty-eight years alone for every extra second with you I can have.” She smiled sadly at him, and wrapped her arms tightly around him as they both began to cry into each other. Letting go of all their grief and sorrow.

“I love you, Nick.” She sobbed into his shoulder, and he snuggled his head further next to hers.

“And I love you.” He confirmed, the words that had laid inside him, dormant for so long, screaming back to life with a fiery passion. They were both alive again, they were together again. All the hopes and dreams he’d once seen shattered and broken now coming back together. The one wish Gold had prayed for every night since Belle died was finally answered. Time. They had time for it all, they had time for everything again.

 

 

_Emma._

 

 

She was 6 days into her week deadline, and Emma felt nowhere near figuring out what the hell was happening in this town. Almost 40 people Graham had identified as returned were now once again walking around Storybrooke, and to say their police department was out of their depth was the understatement of the century. Even Emma had no idea what to look for, or what to investigate. So far, her and Graham and poured over every death certificate of those who had returned, and found no common thread apart from the fact they were all from Storybrooke, and all had-until last week-been deceased.

The only other piece of evidence, was the one Emma tried her hardest to pretend wasn’t there, herself.   
All the returns started the night she arrived in town, and that made her breathing quicken, and her vision blur when the thought that she might also be a returned joined that piece of information.   
As she had started a makeshift office in the Sherrif’s department, Emma considered confessing her secret to Graham, who had become something of a friend over the past week. Well, as close to a friend as Emma got, but it was still not enough to reveal what she had learnt.   
It scared her, and she didn’t know what to do with it. She’d avoided crossing paths with Mary-Margaret and David, afraid of the truth getting out before she knew how to deal with it. They had asked her to find their baby daughter, completely oblivious to the fact their daughter may be the person standing right in front of them.  
  


Emma looked up from her desk when Graham entered carrying a large, pink box, and opened it to reveal a large range of pastries that looked ridiculously delicious, and offered them to Emma.   
Graham was officially upgraded to friend.

“Thought you might want a snack.” He said and Emma sat up excitedly.

“If there’s a bearclaw in there it might be true love.”   
Graham laughed and handed her the pastry.

“Suppose we better send out the announcement then.” Graham winked and Emma giggled.   
It had been awhile since she had a partner to joke around with, she’d forgotten how nice it was. Graham picked out a jam donut for himself and the two feasted on their sweets in silence briefly.

“You know, I do have a deputy position available here.” Graham pointed out, and looked around at the rest of the other empty desks in the station “And…every other position available.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, and Graham shrugged. “It’s a pretty quiet town. That is, until dead people started coming back to life.”

“At least they’re not zombies.” Emma remarked, and Graham took another bite form his donut.

“What I’m trying to say is, I could really use your help around here, with everything that’s going on. And I mean more than just a week. You’re more than qualified.” Graham said, and Emma picked apart her bearclaw.

“I don’t know…putting down roots isn’t really something I’m good at.” Emma told him, and he nodded in understanding.

“Well, the offer’s good for the next 24 hours, then I’ll have to offer it to all the other vying candidates.” Graham waved his hand to the small waiting area, every seat empty, and Emma burst out laughing.  
  


“Sherriff Graham?” A voice called from the doorway, and the two turned around to see Regina Mills standing in the doorway.

“Ms Mills, what’s wrong?” Graham asked her, and offered her the seat by his desk. Regina sat down and Emma moved to stand nearby.

“It’s Henry.” Regina started to explain and Emma moved closer.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Emma asked worriedly. Regina eyed Emma’s response curiously, before she continued to explain to Graham.

“I’ve been trying to get him to open up about what happened to him, but he won’t talk to me or Robin. He won’t talk to anyone.” Regina implored, and Emma felt a twinge of sympathy. Henry had been pretty open to Emma, and she wondered why he couldn’t open up to Regina. His mother.

“I think, he may resent me for moving on.” Regina said, her voice heavy with guilt. “I think he thinks I replaced him with Robin and Roland.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, he probably just doesn’t know where he fits in right now.” Emma said, trying to be caring, but Regina seemed to take it the wrong way.

“I know my own son, Miss Swan. You think I don’t know all that?” Regina hissed back, but seemed to immediately regret her outburst, closing her eyes for a second and moved on.

“He did tell me one thing, about the accident. He said the day he went exploring in there….he thought that he heard someone else in there. That he wasn’t alone in the mines. I think whoever was in there with him might have caused the collapse. I want you to look into it, Sherriff. Whoever that person is, they could be responsible for what happened to Henry.”

Graham nodded and shook Regina’s hand. “I’ll look into it, don’t worry ma’am, we’ll find out who was there.”

Regina sighed in relief, before giving Emma a slight nod and leaving. Emma folded her arms as she watched the woman exit.

“She sure is a force to be reckoned with.” Emma remarked, and Graham half-smirked.

“She’s a good mayor, and she does care. Despite how it may present.” Graham explained, and Emma nodded. Graham reached for his jacket and keys before turning turning to Emma.

“So, you in?” he asked her and she looked at him inquisitively.

“In for what?”

“Finding out who was in the mine, c’mon I’ll drive.” Graham said as he grabbed another donut and sauntered out. Emma smiled to herself, knowing she couldn’t resist the adventure, grabbed her jacket and raced after him.

As she was pulling on her jacket, Emma almost collided head on with a short-haired woman in a lilac coat.

“Mary-Margaret.” Emma remarked with her eyes widened. Perfect.

“Detective Swan! I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

“No, No it’s okay. It was my fault.” Emma said, and started to stare awkwardly at her feet. She hadn’t thought about what to say to her, how to explain why she wasn’t looking for her daughter.

“I didn’t want to bother you but I was wondering if you or Sheriff Graham had any leads on Emma?” Mary-Margaret asked, and when Emma saw the hope and expectation flooding Mary-Margaret’s eyes Emma felt her heart tug the same way Regina’s pain for Henry made her feel. All these people had suffered because of their losses, the person coming back wasn’t supposed to prolong the pain.

“I promise you, we’re looking into it, we’re looking for your daughter as well.” Emma half-lied, and offered a smile to Mary-Margaret who seemed to take Emma’s words as some solace.  It wasn't technically a lie, just an omission on what was the truth. Emma was looking into how she could even possibly fit into all of this. 

The two walked out of the station together, and as Emma went to say goodbye and head towards the waiting Sheriff, Mary-Margaret spoke up again.

“Granny mentioned you were staying at the bed & breakfast until tomorrow.” She said, and Emma paused.

“David and I, have a spare room...if you needed somewhere to stay?” Mary-Margaret offered, and Emma opened her mouth to refuse politely, but didn’t know what to say.

“It’s the least we could do, with everything you’re doing for us.” Mary-Margaret said with a smile, and Emma nodded.

“Thanks, but I’m….I kind of do better on my own.” Emma told her, truthfully the thought of living under the same roof as her parents made her want to pack her handful of belongings and leave town immediately.

“If you change your mind…Our door is always open.” Mary-Margaret told her and turned to walk in the direction of Granny's. Emma watched her walk away and let out a deep sigh before walking over to the Sheriff's car. She had no idea how to deal with this, and she couldn’t keep up the lying forever.

 

 

_Belle._

 

 

 

It was like waking up from a dream, but left her more disoriented than she could ever imagine. It reminded her of when she was a child, and she had fallen asleep in the afternoon when it was bright and sunny, and woke up at night when the world was completely different to when she had seen it before. She had tearfully ran to her mother, convinced she had slept through an entire day, only for her mother to reassure her it was the same day she had fallen asleep. It felt like that, only much more surreal. The disorientation was a weird combination of déjà vu and vertigo.

Everything felt the same, it had felt like her wedding anniversary was only last week, yet she knew it wasn’t.   
She knew time had gone on without her, that she had pressed pause and the world had hit fast-forward. Belle didn’t know how to catch up. She didn’t know how to find herself again.

Nick looked like the man she knew, but the 28 years apart she didn’t remember were written across his face. It wasn’t fair, they were supposed to grow older together not apart. That was the life Belle wanted, for her and Nick to be sitting on the porch of their house and watching their grandkids play in the garden. Now there were 28 years he had lived without her, 28 years they will never get back.

It was her fault, Belle was the reason he had been alone all that time. The reason they would always have this massive space between them caused by her death. Belle knew Nick enough to know he would have blamed himself, but she was the one who had started the argument.

 

It had been a perfect day, a perfect start to their second anniversary. Belle made him his favourite breakfast, and kissed him so hard as he left for work that day she knew he would be thinking about it for at least half the day. That night, they would have dinner at their restaurant down by the harbour, followed by a stroll along the docks, and other…usual anniversary activities she had devilishly planned for.

Belle did her hair up, because she knew Nick couldn’t resist kissing her neck, and a tight fitting dress she had saved for the special occasion, that would send Nick into a frenzy and want to skip dinner and go straight to dessert. Their evening was going to be perfect, and Nick had been late.

Belle waited for him to come home for over 3 hours, and they missed their reservation. When he finally got home, Belle hadn’t even notice through her anger how upset and exhausted he looked. Belle hadn’t even considered to ask him why he was late or what was wrong, all she knew was that he hadn’t showed up for their anniversary dinner. They screamed at each other until they were both blue in the face, dealing out insult after insecurity after pet peeve, until Nick delivered the final blow he knew would send it over the edge, and that Belle knew he would deliver. 

“WELL IF YOU’RE SO MISERABLE IN THIS MARRIAGE, THEN LEAVE! GO! I DON’T WANT YOU HERE ANYMORE.” Belle had stormed out of their house, grabbing her coat and keys and speeding off into the night despite the increasing ferocity of the rain and wind outside, and her husband calling out for her to come back.

She made it to outside of Granny’s before she cooled off, and realised how stupid she had been. Yelling at her sweet, darling husband _and_ driving out into a storm was just a recipe for disaster, Making her husband worry unnecessarily just to spite him was not worth the pain she was feeling having stormed out on him. Belle ran into the diner, soaked already after only a few seconds outside and asked Granny to use the phone. Nick picked up on the second ring and Belle raced to apologise to him before he could. Belle apologised for every word and insult she said, and that she didn’t mean any of it, Nick said it was alright, just come home. He was worried about the storm, and said he almost had a heart attack when he realised she went driving into it. Belle smiled and said she loved him, and that she was coming straight back home. The last words she heard Nick say to her was that he loved her, and he will wait for her to come home.  

 

Belle never made it home. She remembered the bridge, barely able to see a few feet in front of her even with the headlights on full blast. Belle thought she saw someone on the road, and went to swerve. She breathed a sigh of relief that she missed them, and the next thing she saw was another pair of headlights coming right towards her. Belle could still feel the sickening feeling of the car flying off the bridge, and the thud as it hit the icy water. After that, nothing.

If she hadn’t been so stubborn, if she hadn’t cared about some stupid dinner reservation she never would have been out driving during a storm. None of this would have happened, Belle wouldn’t be feeling so lost and Nick wouldn’t have been so alone and miserable. There was nothing she could do to change the past, to fix the pain of what they had gone through, but she had a second chance now, a second life. They could still have the life they’d wanted, as long as they were together did anything else really matter?

Belle wandered downstairs and found Nick in his study, pretending to go over his paperwork from the shop, immediately dropping his attention when Belle knocked softly on the door.

“Hey” he had greeted softly, his smile immediately transforming his whole aura. The man Belle had fell in love with was still there, still just as warm and full of life, only with a few more wrinkles and greyer hair. He was still the love of her life, and she was his.

"Hey..."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers explore through his flowing hair, before pulling herself into him for a deep and long kiss- a kiss that she should have given him 28 years ago.

When they finally had to come up for air, and Nick seemed to gain his senses again, Belle rested her forehead against his and breathed him in.

“What was that for?” Nick asked her, and she traced her fingers along his face, learning every new thing about him, and re-finding the parts of him that were still the same.

“I’m tired of living in the past.” Belle whispered, and kissed him once more before continuing.

“I don’t blame you for what happened, Nick. It wasn’t your fault. I want to move on, with you, I want to start living again.”

Nick kissed her forehead and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin on the top of her head, the two remaining entwined waiting for the other to let go, and neither wanted to ever again. Belle was finally home, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

 

 

  _Emma._

 

 

It was covered with hazard and warning signs, lots of red and yellow tape and more signs saying “keep out!”, “extremely dangerous!”, “DO NOT ENTER”.

What ten year-old wouldn’t want to explore this place, Emma wondered.

“After Henry died, most of the mine was closed off, when really only a small part of it had collapsed. Here, by the entrance.” Graham explained as they ventured toward the mines caved in opening. The placed look like no one had set foot here in years, and Emma couldn’t shake the eerie sense of the place, like it was still haunted.

“So how do we get in?” Emma asked, eyeing off the large rocks and timber bars protruding out in front of her.

“There’s another entrance a bit further down, don’t worry all the dangerous parts have been sealed off now.” Graham said as they began to walk.

“Well where’s the fun in that?” Emma joked, and Graham laughed.

“What did Mary-Margaret want from you at the station?” Graham asked as they reached the entrance, and Graham fished out a key to the padlock.

“Oh…nothing. She wants my help to track down her missing daughter.” Emma tried to say as objectively as possible. Graham swung open the door and a cloud of dust spilled out.

“She’s a returned?”

“Yeah. Said her daughter died with them but wasn’t there when they came back.” Emma avoided Graham’s gaze, who was switching on his flashlight as they ventured into the dusty tunnel.

“Maybe that’s for the best…Maybe the child is somewhere better than this world.” Graham handed Emma the spare flashlight, and Emma followed down after him.

“You sure are a believer aren’t you?” Emma asked, and Graham turned around to see her.

“I like to believe that bad things don’t happen to good people. That there isn’t anymore evil in the world then there has to be.” Graham explained, as they manoeuvred their way deeper into the mine. The light from Emma’s flashlight caught the reflection of several beer bottles scattered on the floor.

“You mentioned this was a hotspot for teenagers to have parties. Did you interview any of them if they ever saw anything that day?” Emma asked.

“None of them knew anything. They all said they had stopped coming down here months before, after they all got busted trying to make firebombs down here.” Graham told her, as he led them into a chasm, and pointed his flashlight to the wall in front of them.

“Behind there was where it happened. Where Henry….” Graham’s sentence trailed off, and he looked morosely back to Emma, who shared the same sad look. There was no way he would have ever survived being crushed by a wall. A heavy price to pay for a ten year old’s avid curiosity.

 Emma and Graham started circling the small room for any signs that didn’t belong, only uncovering rocks and wood and dirt. Emma’s flashlight flew to the ceiling when she heard a resonating rumble above her head, and flitted over to see Graham crouching by the entrance.

“You sure it’s safe down here?”

“What happened to having fun?” Graham teased as she stood up, and Emma shot him a playful scold, and noticed something catch the light behind Graham’s head.

“What’s that behind you…” Emma marched over and brushed away the dust, and found a snagged piece of white fabric on a rusty nail. Emma held up the piece of fabric into the light.

“It almost looks like something has been embroidered on it.” Emma remarked and pocketed the piece of fabric, before Graham sighed and lowered his head.

“Like a doctor’s lab coat.” He told her, and Emma frowned.

“A doctor? Why would a doctor-“Emma’s question was interrupted by a second rumble, much louder and worrying than before as the ground began to shake beneath her boots. Graham had begun to say something, when rocks started falling and they ran.

They made it out of the room as it caved in, and Emma refused to look back as the roof continued to crumble. A large rock struck her in the side of the head, and she fell. Before she could catch her breath, she felt Graham’s hand pull her forward and she came crashing down on him as he sheltered her from the falling debris. Eventually, the chaos stopped, and Emma opened her eyes. They’d landed in a crevasse seemingly spared from the collapse, near an alcove but not near the exit. Emma grunted in frustration. Her day just kept getting better and better.

“Are you alright?” Emma asked Graham as she rolled off of him, and he nodded breathlessly. His hand reached out to sweep away Emma’s dusty blonde curls, and Emma almost overreacted until she felt his hand examine the cut on her head. She winced as his fingers touched a fresh cut.

“It’s fine, I’m okay.” Emma assured him, and he nodded again. The two looked around at their surroundings, and Graham pointed to the wall behind Emma.

“There’s an old service elevator there. It leads up to a shaft, we can get out from there.” Graham panted.

“Great. So do you propose we scale a twenty-foot shaft?” Emma asked, and Graham rummaged for his radio- sighing in frustration when he realised it was damaged and useless.

“Now what?!” Emma dejected as Graham shuffled to lean against the wall.

“Now…we wait for someone to find us I suppose.”

“That could be hours, Graham!”

“Someone will have heard the collapse, and they know we are down here. Don’t worry, someone will come soon.” Graham repeated, and Emma moaned- and proceeded to stare up at the ceiling until her head stopped throbbing.

 

 

“Emma! Emma! Emma wake up!” Graham shouted as he shook her head, Emma opened her eyes to see Graham frantically looking at her until she frowned.

“Graham, what the hell are you doing…”

“You fell asleep, you might have a concussion you can’t fall asleep.” Graham said anxiously, and Emma nodded in understanding, remembering the sharp shooting pain on the side of her head. The blood had dried and caked her hair to her face, Emma didn’t suspect she had a concussion, but definitely would need stitches. Graham sighed again and fell against the wall next to Emma.

“This town is insane…dead people coming back to life, mines collapsing…I can’t believe I even came back to this place.” Emma contemplated, as Graham threw pebbles onto the ground. His hand paused as he went to throw another, and turned to Emma.

“Came back? You’re from here?”

Emma’s jaw dropped as she realised what she had said, and went against her natural instinct to avoid telling the truth for the first time in her life.

The man did save her life after all, perhaps if there was one person she could talk to, it was Graham.

 

“I was born here.” Emma said, and Graham raised his eyebrows in surprise as Emma's eyes welled up.

“Can I tell you something crazy?”

“Sure.” Graham said quietly, and Emma wiped her eyes.

“The reason I’m not looking for Mary-Margaret’s baby…is because I already know where she is.”   
Emma looked up to Graham, and breathed heavily as she prepared herself to tell him the truth, to tell herself the truth.

“Their baby’s name was Emma, who was born on October 22, 1983. I was born on October 22nd 1983, and found as a baby, abandoned on December 23rd 1983, the day they died. _I’m_ their daughter.”

Graham took a few moments to process, and Emma regained her breath, before he looked back at her with an expression of disbelief.

“Their baby died that night as well…that means you are a returned too. The first returned.”

“Guess so.” Emma said, and leant her head against the rocky wall.

“That’s why when you came back to Storybrooke the returns started happening, you somehow triggered it.” Graham deduced, Emma nodded silently.

“Have you told them?”

“How do I tell them the baby daughter they knew isn’t a baby anymore? That they missed her growing up? How do I tell them their daughter is the same age as them now…” Emma said in a dejected tone, and Graham reached out to grab her hand.

“None of that will matter to them, they just want their child back.” Graham comforted her, and Emma smiled slightly.

“If only it were that easy.”

“Perhaps it is, Emma. They’re your family, whatever the circumstance that led to you finding them again. This is your second chance to know them, to have a mother and father. You have to open your heart to the possibility of happiness. If I believe in anything it’s that some things happen for a reason, if not always revealing that reason to us.” Graham said, Emma was captivated by his words.   
Perhaps it was his accent, or his endearing charm, but she believed him, and trusted him.

Emma could out it down to the blood loss, the pounding ache in her head or the fact that they were trapped down there together, but she couldn’t ignore the pull she felt towards Graham. Graham was like a breath of fresh air to Emma, a welcome change after so long with her walls up. He made her feel like she belonged her, that she was wanted. Emma lent her head closer to his, and he slowly followed her movements until their foreheads almost touched. Her lips had just brushed against his, as she went to lean in closer, when a loud bang echoed down from the elevator shaft followed by a bright light.

A harness and rope soon trickled down the shaft, and they were whisked up through the shaft in no time. It was night by the time they emerged, a paramedic on-site stitched up Emma’s head and recommended she stay at the hospital overnight for observation, to which she declined.

Instead she found herself wandering to Mary-Margaret’s door, and knocking quietly three times.

Mary-Margaret answered with first a look of surprise that Emma had actually turned up, followed by a look of joy that she had.

“Is that room still available?” Emma enquired, and Mary-Margaret smiled widely held open the door for Emma.   
Mary-Margaret closed the door behind her as David emerged from the bathroom. Emma shook his hand, who affectionately said it was lovely to meet her. She wasn’t ready for them to know who she was, for them to be anything other than friendly neighbours, but Graham was right. Emma had to open her heart, and be open to letting them in.


	4. Death Doesn't Let You Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby begins a new chapter of her life and attempts to move on from painful memories, whereas Victor’s past comes back to haunt him as he begins to look into who may have been responsible for Ruby’s death. 
> 
> Emma gets advice from unlikely sources on her situation, as she continues to avoid telling the truth to Mary-Margaret and David. As Emma decides to finally let her guard down, and let someone in, with a tragic ending.

Ruby.

 

Vic offered to drop her off on his way to the hospital that morning, but she politely declined, saying she had to start living her life again, and learning to do things on her own. He had nodded in understanding, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought against it and quickly rushed out the door.

For the last week she had been staying at Vic’s tiny, bachelor apartment that overlooked the docks. Ruby had offered to take the couch, but Vic insisted she take his room no matter how long it took for her to get back on her feet. In truth, Ruby had no idea where to even start with that. She felt helplessly lost in a town she used to know so well it had suffocated her, now it was stifling for an entirely different reason. For years she had wanted to leave and find adventure, now stepping out onto Main Street and buying groceries felt like enough of an adventure.

Vic had been there with her every step of the way for the past week, and Ruby would never be able to repay him for all he had done. He calmed her nightmares, answered every one of her questions about what had happened to her and the changed world that he could answer. Eventually, Ruby felt calmer, and the weight on her chest felt lighter.

Ruby smiled as she watched Whale walk up the short distance up the street to the hospital. He had always been a constant in her life, or old life she supposed it was now, but she had barely ever noticed him. He had just always been there, in the background or periphery of her own little world. It wasn’t ever intentional, and she hadn’t ignored his existence entirely, but perhaps only now Ruby realised just how much she had relied on him as a friend that had always there. That was the first thing she intended to repair and change for the better from her old life. Now it was time for the second repair, that sent panic rising up Ruby's throat. 

Ruby finally dressed and brushed her hair, crawling inside a borrowed wool coat from Whale and ventured back out onto Main Street. She had sworn to herself, she would be brave and take the first step in reclaiming her life. Ruby made a promise to Vic and to herself, she would do things better with this second chance, not going back to her old ways of wasting her life being miserable at the world. That meant starting again, and finding a new purpose. So she did the brave thing, and walked through the door to the veterinary clinic. David Nolan, as he introduced himself, delightedly offered her a job the second she asked. Ruby, slightly taken-aback, asked if he was bothered that she was a returned (a phrase she still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around yet, but was working on it.) He laughed and said it wasn’t a problem, since he was one too. Ruby smiled and felt a little easier, remembering others, like David, were still trying to find their footing again. The weight lifted a little more, as Ruby shook David’s hand and accepted a name badge that said “Assistant”. By the end of the day, the feeling of an iron fist squeezing her heart was almost gone as she left the clinic, and walked back to Victor’s.

Ruby was so caught up in her glee of the first day of her new life, she hadn’t realised her feet had kept carrying her past Vic’s door, and away from town. Her chest felt tighter and heavier again, Ruby’s heart racing when her toes met the edge of the cemetery grounds. In truth, the reason Ruby had been holding back from accepting her new reality because there was one last part of her old life she was yet to confront. The third mistake she had been afraid to confront because she knew, in her heart, it was unfixable. She’d been terrified to come here after Vic had told her what happened. It was about 6 months after Ruby’s death. He had assured her, and assured and assured her, it wasn’t because of what happened to Ruby. It was an aneurysm that burst while she slept, nothing anyone could have predicted or be blamed for.

Ruby had thought of what she would have changed about the last time she spoke with Granny if she had ever had the chance, now no words seemed appropriate. Ruby wondered if Vic had chosen where Granny was laid to rest, looking out over the woods that Granny had loved so much. It was the kind of unnoticed act of kindness that had the trace of Vic on it. Ruby steadied her breathing and knelt down in front of the weathered stone, and started to pick at errant blades of frosted grass.

“You always hated when I did this,” Ruby reflected, sprinkling the blades at her feet. “You always yelled that it was careless, and killed the grass. I remember once you yelled ‘How would you like it if someone pulled out strands of your hair one at a time?’” she laughed and looked up at the granite stone, pretending her grandmother’s stern but soft eyes were frowning down at her.

“Sorry I didn’t come by sooner, I guess I was afraid.” Ruby said, and felt her eyes begin to sting as old memories stirred in her head.

“Everything’s changed here…and I….I didn’t even know where I fitted in this town before I died! Now I feel even more like a stranger who doesn’t belong.” Ruby said softly, looking down at the disconnected pieces of grass. Granny was her last familial connection to this place, the rest of her family had been long gone before Ruby had even reached adulthood. It had just been Ruby & Granny. Ruby & Granny. Now....Ruby. 

“That night I stormed out, the things I said to you….I wanted you to know I didn’t mean any of it.” Ruby whispered to Granny’s name etched in the headstone, praying she could hear these words more than anything.

“I said I wish you were dead….and…now you’re gone and I’ll never be able to take it back, take back any of it. I’m so, so sorry, Granny.” Ruby began to sob, as her guilt and sadness overcame her thoughts. A twig snapped behind Ruby, and she flew her head around to see an apprehensive Whale holding up his hands and his eyes filled with sympathy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you….I just….you weren’t back at the apartment.” He tried to explain, and Ruby tried to smile back that it was alright, but could barely manage that.

“Is that seat taken?” he joked as he pointed to a patch of ground beside Ruby, she half-laughed, half-sobbed and shook her head, as Whale sat down beside her. The two stared at Granny’s headstone in silence until Ruby’s sobs had calmed.

“How much did you hear?” Ruby asked, and Whale looked at her briefly.

“Not much of it, I wanted to give you space.” Whale replied honestly, and the two continued to stare at the grave.

“We fought all the time.” Ruby remembered, and laughed along with Vic.

“Yeah, you two did…But you fought because you were so alike, you just couldn’t see it.” He said fondly.

“We always fought…but we always made up as well. I didn’t care about what I said to Granny that night because I thought I would have time to apologise,” Ruby confided to Vic. “Now…I’ll never get the chance to say I’m sorry for it all….or to say goodbye.”

“A lot of us never get the chance to say what we really feel to those we love. You can waste your whole life waiting for that perfect moment and….you can miss your chance.” Victor breathed, and Ruby looked over to see his eyes were also filled with tears, before they locked onto hers. Ruby could feel her heart racing again as she saw his expression. The same look he had when he first saw her the day she came back. Hope and heartache all at once.

“Death doesn’t let you say goodbye, or say you’re sorry. It just leaves you with nothing.” Ruby replied, and saw Whale nod out of the corner of her eye. Words that were true for her and Granny, and for her and Whale.

Ruby closed her eyes and leant her head on Vic’s shoulder, as she let the last of her tears run their course. Occasionally she felt his arm rub her shoulder comfortingly, and finally his head resting against hers. They stayed huddled until the light in the sky began to dim, and they made their way back to Vic’s.

As Vic unlocked the door and turned on the lights, Ruby hesitated by the front door and played with the frays of her sleeve.

“Is it alright if I stay here for now? Until I find a more permanent solution?” Ruby asked as Vic slowly took off his jacket.

“Of course…I can clean out my spare room for you tomorrow.” He offered. "It's just filled with old medical journals and stuff, nothing important."

“Thanks, Vic.” Ruby ventured to the hallway, but stopped short and turned back to face Whale, who now was setting up the couch to sleep on again.

“How long….did you feel that way about me?” Ruby said in the smallest voice. She watched him freeze as he realised what she was asking, and he tried to search for what to say. Ruby wasn’t blind, and she had pieced two and two together, but what puzzled her is why she had never even noticed before she died. 

“Goodnight, Victor.” Ruby hastily said and closed the bedroom door behind her, suddenly afraid of what Whale might say. That night, as she lay trying to fall asleep, she imagined what would have happened if she hadn’t died that night in the car accident. If she might have finally woken up from her ignorance, if they had ever made it to the date stage, if Granny had approved.

Ruby tried to shake it off, contemplating a past she never could have. It was a life that ended four years ago, and this was day one of her second life. Ruby couldn’t waste her time thinking about a life she couldn’t have, or the goodbyes or apologies she could never deliver. Ruby owed it to Granny, to herself, to not live in the past and find her way in the present. She might not ever be able to say goodbye to Granny, but Ruby could almost let herself believe she was still with her, watching over Ruby.

 

 

Emma. 

 

“Is that all of it?” David asked as he closed the door behind Emma with the side of his foot, arms filled to capacity with boxes as Mary-Margaret jumped up from the couch to help set them down and restore David’s eye line.

“Yep, that’s it.” Emma declared as she dropped the box she was carrying too, as David set the others beside it. Stacked up all together, Emma’s entire life of material things did not even equal her height. She didn’t own much in the way of clothes or fashion, preferring to stick with her trusty jeans, boots and jacket combo. And having spent most of her life sleeping in the back-seat of her bug, furniture wasn’t an issue, or really anything bigger than a toaster.  Mary-Margaret held out a cup of coffee, to which Emma heartedly accepted.

“So that’s all of your things?” Mary-Margaret asked inquisitively, eyeing the boxes by the foot of the stairs.

“What do you mean?” Emma asked spying her little tower. She supposed it didn’t seem like a lot to others, but have you ever tried jamming three cardboard boxes of possessions into a little yellow bug?

“Is the rest in storage?” Mary-Margaret clarified.

“No, this is all of it. I’m…not that sentimental.” Emma mumbled into her coffee, out of the corner of her eye spotting her baby blanket was poking out of the top box. As David and Mary-Margaret moved to the kitchen, Emma speeded to shove the corner back in and out of sight.

“Well I better head off to work, I have someone new starting at the clinic today, a Returned. Dr Whale asked if I could help her out a little. Readjusting and all.” David said, taking one final swig of coffee before sliding on his coat. Mary-Margaret gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and Emma averted her eyes.

“Must be hard to try and start over like that.” Emma commented, thinking of the pile of requests from other Returns sitting on her desk waiting for her and Graham to look into.

“Hey, if you need any help at the station I’m happy to pitch in, Detective. Especially with Emma, If you have more pressing cases to investigate.” David said as he lingered in the open doorway. Emma bit her lip nervously, avoiding his mention of the baby, before she remembered her charade.

“I thought you were a vet.” Emma raised her eyebrow, and David chuckled.

“Well, technically yes. But I was also a deputy sheriff before we died, sort of. Whenever they were short-handed I stepped in as an officer. Kind of a part-time gig.” David explained with a tilt of his head.

“You always did like wearing the holster.” Mary-Margaret quipped in, and Emma smiled at their nostalgia and cheeky flirting before remembering these were her parents. _Oh god_.

“I’ll uh, um….Thanks for the offer, I’ll let you know if I need some back up.” Emma tried to keep focus, and not let her imagination run wild as Mary-Margaret and David made lovey-eyes across the room at each other. So this is what traumatising family memories feels like, Emma thought. 

“Have you found anything yet, about Emma?” Mary-Margaret asked hopefully, Emma turned around to see Mary-Margaret and David both watching her with big, expecting eyes and she thought of another lie to feed them. Emma was beginning to really hate herself for getting in to this mess, these two people had offered her guidance, help and now even shelter; and all she was giving them were lies.

“We’re heading out to the bridge today to have a look around for any clues, any homes nearby that might have seen something.” Emma said as convincingly as possible, and breathed a sigh of relief when Mary-Margaret smiled in thanks and David waved before closing the door behind them.

“It might also help if you talked to the people in the other car, from the crash.” Mary-Margaret said, as Emma began to move her boxes up the stairs to the second room that would become hers. Emma briefly scanned over the file in her head about the Nolans’ death, remembering what Mary-Margaret was referring to. It was the night of one of Storybrooke’s worst storms, according to the file, and the Nolans’ car had skidded in the rain and collided head on with an 80’s Cadillac with one passenger. They also died at the scene, but the Nolan file didn’t contain who it was.

“You know who was in the other car?” Emma sat on the staircase as Mary-Margaret nodded and ran to the bookshelf. She returned carrying a large photo album and pulled a chair up in front of Emma. She waited patiently as Mary-Margaret flipped through the quite thick album. Emma tried to stop herself from wondering if she was in there, and failed.

“Here, Belle French-Well, Belle Gold I guess. I wasn’t ever sure if she changed her last name or not.” Mary-Margaret babbled as she turned the album and handed it to Emma.

It was a faded photograph of a man and a woman embracing at a party in this very same loft. A banner behind their heads read “Happy Birthday Mary-Margaret!”, and Emma could briefly spy David in the background dancing. The woman was breathtakingly stunning, with piercing blue eyes that hadn’t seemed to fade on the photo paper. The man beside her had long, dark brown hair and wore a matching smile to his counterpart. They were both quite attractive, and so evidently in love in the split second this picture captured. It was the kind of love that tugged at Emma’s heart, and made her long for something she never had- or that she ever knew she wanted. The man looked at Belle as though she was his whole world, and would do anything to protect her.

“You knew her?” Emma asked as she handed back the album to Mary-Margaret.

“David was good friends with Mr Gold, Nicholas. David even helped Belle choose a puppy as their anniversary gift. Belle was one of the kindest people I knew, so full of life. She had a way of seeing something in others they couldn't see in themselves.” Mary-Margaret recollected, and her eyes glazed over slightly, lost in the past.

“You sure it was her in the other car?”

“Positive. I recognised the car, and I saw….I saw her face just before it happened.” Emma couldn’t help but reach out to take Mary-Margaret’s hand to comfort her. It couldn't be an easy thing talking about the moment right before everything went black.

“And she came back too? Belle?” Mary-Margaret nodded.

“I saw her at the hospital the day I met you.” Mary-Margaret confirmed, and Emma nodded before letting go of her hand.

“I’ll talk to her, I promise.” And before she knew it, Mary-Margaret had pulled Emma up off her feet and into a hug.

“Thank you for everything you are doing, Miss Swan. Thank you so, so much.” Emma tried to fight against it, it had been a very long time since someone had hugged her so tightly, or ever. She awkwardly patted her on the back and hoped that was what one was supposed to do in this situation.

“I just….I miss her so much. We barely got any time with her at all and then she was gone, we were gone. There’s still so much I want to do for Emma, tell her and just hold her. Teach her how to walk, and dance and say momma....  I’d do anything to get her back.” Mary-Margaret whispered, and Emma was never more relieved her face was hidden from view.  

“So will I, I promise.” Emma mumbled over Mary-Margaret’s shoulder, who hugged her tighter for a split second before letting go. Mary-Margaret smiled and wiped her tears away quickly before excusing herself to the other room. Emma watched and waited until the bathroom door clicked shut before opening the photo album again.

The very first photo in the album was a newborn baby Emma. The tiny version of herself was wrapped up in the woollen blanket, Mary-Margaret and her radiating smile surrounded by long, black hair and David beaming with his arms around Mary-Margaret. She slammed the album shut, dropping it on the table and running out the door before she burst into tears.

 

She made it as far as the docks of Storybrooke before she realised her face was wet with tears. It was stupid, Emma tried to tell herself, and she was making the whole situation worse.

Both Emma and Mary-Margaret wanted what they couldn’t have. Mary-Margaret wanted her baby, but her baby was gone. Nothing Emma could do would change the fact that Mary-Margaret had missed her child growing up, teaching Emma how to walk and dance. Emma wanted more than anything to be that baby her parents were searching for, to get the second chance of being with them rather than the 28 years of pain Emma had really experienced. Emma wished she could be that baby in the photograph surrounded by parents who loved her, that would have been there through it all.

A cold, harsh gust of wind was enough to shock Emma back to her senses. As she looked up, sweeping her hair from her face- she spotted another lonely and sad face across the way. Emma walked up to them and had to crouch as she entered the tiny castle playground. She sat down beside Henry, who was watching the clock tower in Main Street.

“It used to be broken, it was stuck on 8:15 for as long as I can remember.” Henry told her, and Emma followed to gaze to the clock face, that she could just make out at 11:30.

“Guess they fixed it.” Emma said, and offered Henry a handkerchief from her jacket pocket. The two just sat in the little castle, swapping the handkerchief back and forth to wipe up their tears, and Emma was secretly glad she was sitting next to the one person in Storybrooke who wouldn’t ask her what was wrong, and she wouldn’t have to lie to.

“I can’t keep lying to everyone, but I can’t tell them the truth either. The truth hurts them just as much as lying.” Emma told him, and he looked up at her.

“My mom has a new family, she has Robin and Roland. I don’t have a family anymore, I don’t know where I fit in. She moved on.” Henry swapped his sad tale to her, and it almost broke Emma’s heart. Emma hadn’t ever looked after a child, she could barely look after herself, and she had no idea how to comfort him in the way he needed it.

“I don’t know where I fit in either, kid.” Emma confessed, and dabbed her face again.

“The people you're living with, are they your family?”

Emma grimaced, “Yeah…I guess you could say that.” Hoping she was maintaining her deception as nothing but a detective who happened to move to a town where dead people came back to life.

“You’re one of us too, aren’t you? A returned.” Henry asked abruptly, and Emma turned to him in surprise.

“How do you know that?” Emma asked, flabbergasted. Henry turned to watch the clock again.

“I don’t know, I could just tell. When I met you, I just felt like I could trust you.” Emma placed her hand on his shoulder and looked into his confused eyes.

“You can trust me, Henry. With anything, and I hope you’ll trust me too.” Emma said.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I need you to trust me when I say this, your mom _never_ moved on. She would never forget or replace you. I know it’s hard to find out where you fit in when time moved on without you, but your mom is so happy to have you back, believe me. You still have a place here, Regina is still your family even if there are a few more members in it now.”

Henry took in her words and considered them, giving Emma genuine smile that warmed her heart. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, just like he had when they first met.  

“Can you take me home, Emma?”

“Sure thing, kid.” Emma said as she jumped to her feet and pulled Henry up with her. As they walked across the playground, Henry kept hold of Emma’s hand until they reached her car and drove off.

“Hey, Henry,” Emma said as she led him up the walkway to his house, and he turned to wait and listen.

“I’ll always be your family too, one returned to another.” Emma grinned as she held out her pinkie, that Henry enthusiastically wrapped his around.

“You should tell them the truth, before they find out another way that hurts them more.” Henry offered, before releasing Emma’s pinkie and running inside. Robin held the door open as Henry bounded through the door.

“Won’t you come in? Regina made lasagne, there’s plenty for stragglers.” Robin said cheerfully.

“Thanks, maybe next time. I have to go find someone about a case.” Emma waved off as she walked back to her car. Perhaps Henry was right, and though the truth would hurt, there was no way Emma could maintain her deception and find answers at the same time. She was fighting with one hand tied behind her back. As she drove to the pink manor on the outskirts of town, Emma began to fear what would happen once the truth got out. Would Mary-Margaret still love her daughter after she found out the detective who lied to her is Emma?

 

 

Whale.

 

Whale couldn’t sleep that night, and spent the entirety of the early morning clearing out the spare room in silence so as to not wake Ruby in the next room. He couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he tried, but refused to reach for his usual, whiskey-infused sleeping aid. Ruby had made the oath to turn over a new leaf, and so had he. Whale had wasted too many years drinking himself into an oblivion in Ruby’s name that he could never take back.

In truth, the reason he couldn’t sleep was Ruby’s face after she had asked him how long he had had feelings for her, and then closing the door before he could answer. Whale had no idea what his answer even was. He had always felt something for her, she was extraordinary. One of those rare people in life you meet who are just so exceptionally unique, like a work of art. How could he not have feelings for her? But those feelings had been bottled up and fermented into rum or whiskey or scotch after she died. Ruby would be outraged at what he had done in her name, in the name of guilt and sorrow. The least he could do now was clear out the bed from underneath all these years of files and paperwork.

It was around 3am when he finally cleared his way to the desk, and began to rummage through them as he threw unnecessary files into the garbage. Underneath medical reports from ten or so years ago, Whale found a yellow folder. His hands faltered as he went to reach for it, recognising it from four years ago. It was the police and autopsy report for Ruby’s accident. Whale had begged David Nolan for a copy, David probably thinking it was just to help Whale come to terms with the loss, but Whale had asked for the files for another reason. A reason which now came bubbling back to the surface.

_Who was responsible for Ruby’s death? Who is to blame?_

For two years Whale had tried to find the identity of the driver that hit Ruby, and then left her to die on the side of the road. He had gotten close, it was a small town after all- with not that many dark corners to hide in. Yet he had gotten nowhere, the person responsible never faced justice- and so only one person was left Whale could place the blame on: himself. Around the 2nd anniversary of Ruby’s death, was the day Whale gave up trying to find Ruby’s killer, and drank so much he couldn’t remember any of the events of that week.

Whale knew how to make things right now, to make the four years he had spent in a drunken, direction-less rage. How to make things right for Ruby. He’d try again, he’d start again in finding the driver. Whale wasn’t sure at what point after this he fell asleep, but the next thing he knew Ruby was shaking him awake as he laid against the edge of the bed surrounded by files. She waved a fresh mug of coffee under nose like sniffing salts, and he came to quite quickly, shoving the yellow folder out of sight as Ruby said good morning.

“Were you in here all night?” Ruby asked as she walked around the room, Whale sipping his coffee before standing up.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He said, and offered no more before he pointed at the door. “Want some breakfast?”

“As much as I enjoy your definition of breakfast of re-heated pop-tarts, Vic, I think I need something a bit more substantial today.” Ruby joked, and Whale laughed along. They both got dressed and headed to Granny’s, both trying their hardest to not let it be awkward. It was just two friends/roommates going to breakfast. Nothing awkward about it at all, except for the half-confession of feelings the night before. Whale needed a lot more coffee.  

“How was your first day at work?” Whale tried as conversation starter as their plates of eggs, bacon and galore were served.

“Pretty great, it was nice doing something other than waitressing here for once.” Ruby remarked, and hoovered into her breakfast.

“Ruby…What do you remember about the night you died?” Whale asked bluntly, and Ruby almost choked on a piece of bacon.

“Is this typical breakfast-talk now?” Ruby asked before finishing her mouthful and looking up at Vic.

“I don’t really remember much of it, I’ve been trying to but it’s like the harder I try to focus on it the further it slips away. Or maybe the more I’m alive the more it just feels like I was asleep the whole time. That is was all a bad dream.” Ruby said as she looked off into the distance. Whale fought against the urge to reach out and touch her hand lying on the table.

“Can you remember what kind of car it was? Or the driver?” Ruby looked at Whale again, and creased her eyebrows.

“You want to find out who it was don’t you?”

“Don’t _you_? Don’t you want to know who is responsible?” Whale questioned, and Ruby looked even more confused.

“I don’t remember getting hit by the car, but I do remember right after. I was lying on the side of the road, and I couldn’t move. The person got out of the car and looked down at me. I couldn’t see their face but I saw their feet. It was a man, definitely. He was wearing really fancy leather shoes, like he had a lot of money. That’s all I can really remember.”

Whale nodded as he listened, this was good. Not that many people in Storybrooke were incredibly rich, it was a lead. Much more than he had two years ago.

“Vic, Listen.” Ruby snapped him out of his mind as her hand darted across the table and wrapped gently around his.

“I don’t want you to get lost in a blind pursuit of revenge or whatever it is you’re thinking about. It isn’t worth becoming as evil as the man you hunt in order to catch them.” Ruby said, before she smiled and he gave her one as well. Ruby released his hand and he immediately missed the warmth of her touch.

“I have to get to work, don’t want to be late on my second day. I’ll see you back at the apartment.” Ruby said before she got up and walked to the exit. Whale thought against the instinct to watch her leave, and nodded as he kept her words in his mind. He would keep the promise to her to not be the man he was before, to stay in the light and find out who killed her.

Whale was about to continue enjoying his breakfast when another figure slid into the booth across from him.

“Graham, what’s up?”

“I need to talk to you about something, Vic.” Graham said in a tone that made Vic set down his fork.

“So do I actually, I want to find out who killed Ruby four years ago. I have a new lead, actually. Ruby’s been filling in the blanks.” Vic said, and Graham nodded, knowing that this was important to Vic, and to Ruby.

“We’ll get to that, but this is more important. It’s about two years ago.” Graham said solemnly. Whale shrugged.

“What happened two years ago?” Whale said without a clue in the world what his friend was talking about.

“Vic…where were you the day the mine collapsed?”

 

 

Emma.

 

 

“Do you remember anything from the night of the accident?” Emma asked, and Belle frowned as she thought back. 

Emma sat in the grand living room as Mr Gold hovered in and out of sight, Belle sat in an armchair by the fire across from her. It was so startling, Belle had looked almost exactly the same as the photo Mary-Margaret had shown Emma, except perhaps slightly longer hair. But Mr Gold, the youthful man with dark hair and light-filled eyes was only just recognisable after twenty-eight years after that photo had passed. Yet the husband and wife, separated by time and death, still looked at each other as if that photo was taken five minutes ago. It was remarkable, what this curse or blessing of the returned could achieve, Emma thought.

“I remember all of it,” Belle reflected sullenly. “It was a terrible storm, I shouldn’t have been out driving- and I was upset that night. The water was so cold.” She whispered the last sentence, and Emma watched in the background as Mr Gold almost entered to comfort his wife, but stopped himself and returned to pretending to be busy in the kitchen. 

“This isn’t about blame or responsibility, I promise. I’m here asking if you know anything about the people in the other car.”

“David and Mary-Margaret? I-I knew them, Nick and I were quite close with them. They were the same age as us, married around the same time too. I heard they came back as well.” Belle recalled. 

“They’re looking for their daughter, who was in the car with them too. Did you see her?”

“Baby Emma? No, no I’m sorry. I didn’t even know she was in the car with them. Did she come back with us too?”

“No...she didn’t.” Emma confessed, and Belle smiled sympathetically. If only she knew what Emma really meant, she thought.

“I wish I could help you, and help Mary-Margaret and David, I’m sorry.” Belle said, and after Emma finished the tea Belle had prepared, she led Emma to the front door.

“Are you settling back in alright?” Emma asked Belle, who nodded and laughed.

“I still don’t really know what Googling means, but I’m getting there.”

“If you ever need help with anything…”

“Thank you, Detective Swan.” Belle said and shook Emma’s hand. Emma had turned to leave when Belle began to say something else.

“You know….you like a little like her.” Belle observed, and Emma’s mouth fell open.

“Like who?”

“Mary-Margaret. Your chin, and your eyes….the same color.” Emma didn’t know what to say, as Belle gave her a strange look that left Emma felt her blood turn to ice. Belle was smart, she could make the connections, and understood Emma’s body language. Belle then placed her hand on Emma’s shoulder.

“All Mary-Margaret and David would want, is to know their daughter is alive. No matter the circumstances. That she's okay.”

Emma tried to steady her breathing, and attempted to build her walls up so high she could hide behind them and let the world pass around her. Unfortunately they seemed to be doing just the opposite.

“Thanks for your help, Belle.” Emma tried to reply as quickly and calmly as possible, before sprinting to her car and back to the station. There she could sit in the dark for a few hours and not get interrupted as she freaked out.

 

Emma’s plan of avoidance and denial lasted for about 4 hours, as she sat sitting against Graham’s desk out of sight, clutching a bottle hidden in his bottom draw (which was a terrible hiding place, really. Emma picked the lock in ten seconds flat). She was interrupted, when the lights turned on, and Graham rounded the corner to find her sitting on the floor of his office. Emma wasn’t sure what his reaction was going to be, and if she saw pity or humour in his face she was very determined to punch him in the gut very hard. Instead, he sank down next to her and grabbed the bottle.

“That drawer was locked.” Graham said as he took a swig.

“Private investigator, remember.” Emma yanked the bottle back, “you look like you had a rough day.”

“So do you.” Graham pointed out, and Emma offered him the bottle. Graham reached up behind him and brought down a glass that he poured out for himself before returning the bottle to Emma.

“Want to talk about it?”

“I just accused my friend of accidentally killing Henry Mills two years ago. So, definitely not. You?”

“Two people today found out my secret, Mary-Margaret and David are seconds away from finding out I’m their daughter.”

Graham didn’t say anything, he just held out his glass as Emma clinked the neck of the bottle against it, and the two continued drinking away their misery.

“All my life I’ve wanted a family, a place to call home. Now I have both and I’m afraid. Afraid of it getting taken away so badly I can’t even bring myself to chase after it.” Emma said, and took another drink.

“It won’t change the fact I’m an orphan, that I felt unwanted and alone all my life. It won’t take away the pain and resentment I feel.”

Graham reached out and gently, pulled Emma’s chin with his finger to face him.

“I can promise you this, Emma. You _are_ wanted. You aren’t alone. I swear I won’t leave.” He whispered, his eyes locking onto hers with such intensity and sincerity Emma never wanted to look away. She leaned in to him, and touched her lips so gingerly against his, afraid he too would get pulled away. Instead, Graham leaned in closer, and wrapped his arms around Emma. Graham was here, he understood her and he knew her secrets and still didn’t run. Emma wanted nothing more than to freeze this moment and stay in it together.

 

After they pulled away from each other, Graham held her face in his hands, and the two smiled so gleefully through their tears. Graham looked after with the adoration and kindness Emma had watched with Gold and Belle, the love Emma craved more than anything. Unconditional and pure.

Emma groaned, but was at least thankful this interruption hadn’t interrupted their kiss, when her phone began buzzing on her desk.

“I’ll be right back, don’t drink all the alcohol before I get back.” Emma warned him, as she caressed his face and leant her forehead to his, before she rose and walked out of Graham’s offices.

“I won’t make promises I can’t keep.” He called back, and Emma threw him a playful scorn across her shoulder. Emma picked up her phone and read the caller ID. Emma walked out into the back hallway as she hit answer.

“Hey, Mary-Margaret.”

“Emma? I’m sorry for calling, you just hadn’t come back to the loft and it was late. I just wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Just some paperwork I’m finishing up at the station, I’ll be back soon.” Emma told her, and hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“There’s something I need to tell you and David when I get back, too. About Emma.” Emma listened as Mary-Margaret only breathed heavily for a moment before answering.

“Alright, we’ll see you later.” Emma hung up, looking down at her phone as she promised herself she would tell them everything when she did see them. It was time to stop running.

A heavy grunt, and a muffled commotion came from Graham’s office, and Emma walked back out into the office space. Emma briefly caught a glimpse of a dark figure running from the office in a hoodie, she barely had enough time to draw her gun from her back before she saw Graham struggle to stand and reach for the desk for support as a red patch spread across his shirt.

“Graham!” Emma ran to him as he hit the ground, and a pool of blood started to circle around him.

“Stay with me! Graham, stay with me!” Emma grabbed her jacket that had been across from where they sat and tried to staunch the bleeding coming from his chest, trying even harder to stop her sobs. Graham made eye contact with her, and tried to speak as the colour drained from face.

“Emma….” His hand, covered in blood, reached up to her face, and with her free hand she held it there.

“Graham, please….please you promised.” Emma cried, as Graham’s eyes drooped and his hand fell.  
There was no stopping Emma’s gut wrenching sobs as she clung on to Graham’s still body and tried to shake him awake again. The bottle and Graham’s glass laid untouched next to them.


	5. We’re All Afraid To Let People Go And Let People In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gold begins to notice a familiar face watching him and his wife, the returned start to suffer from a mysterious illness. Emma tries to hide her symptoms and Mary-Margaret begins to suspect Sheriff Swan is not being honest with her about her missing daughter.

 

 

Belle.

 

Belle would have liked her first proper outing into Storybrooke since her return be something a little less morose. Nick had known Sheriff Graham very well during his time in office, and felt the need to pay his respects, to which Belle understood completely. Most of Storybrooke attended the funeral and ceremony, and Belle felt even more out of place than having been dead for 28 years. She never even met this man, who would have been only an infant when Belle was still alive. The entire time she was gone, was almost the same as this man's lifetime. It was still all a little strange, realising all that had changed, but she was coping. She’d woken up with a cold that morning, and her neck felt a little stiff when she moved it too quickly. Considering just over a month ago Belle had been dead she didn’t really see the point in complaining about a slight cold.

Belle stayed by Nick’s side through the funeral, never letting go of his hand. As they lowered the coffin into the ground, Belle spotted the detective who had come by last week to ask her about the accident. Detective Swan walked up to the grave, knelt down and picked up a handful of soil that she sprinkled down onto the coffin. Her expression was blank, devoid of anything, but Belle could see behind her eyes she was a wreck. It was the same vacant look Nick had in his eyes when Belle first came home. She wondered how close this Graham and the detective had really been.

After the service, Nick said he’d planned for them to hike and have a picnic in the forest- an outing they had conducted almost every week of their marriage. Belle was grateful for the sense of normalcy in re-introducing the tradition. Belle made some sandwiches and stored the picnic basket in the back of the Cadillac. They hiked for about an hour before deciding on a nice clearing just off the trail, hiking all the way up to the top of the trail seemed unfair on Nick and his bad knee. Strangely enough, seeing her husband 28 years older was the first thing Belle grew used to. She barely noticed the silver in his hair or the lines under his eyes anymore. All she could see was the man she fell in love with, and it was all that mattered.

“I’ve been thinking about re-opening the library.” Belle mused as they nibbled on some fruit, Nick was lying on his side beside Belle, and titled his head to look at her.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, it’s been closed for so long now. It would be nice to see it open again.” he agreed, and Belle smiled in delight. For the next few moments, Belle attempted to throw grapes into Nick’s open mouth, and both would burst into uncontrollable laughter every time she missed. Their playful little game blurred away the time and age between them, and it was almost as though it was 1983 again. After Nick took a grape to the eye, he punished Belle with an onslaught of kisses before declaring it was his turn. Nick was much better was their little game, he didn’t miss a single grape. Belle had all but forgotten the sorrows of the morning as the sun started to set, until Nick and Belle stumbled their way back to the car, giggling.

They had been walking arm and arm back to the car parked just outside Nick’s shop, when Nick froze in his tracks- his eyes fixated at something in the shadows Belle couldn’t make out. It almost looked like a person, watching them. Nick’s face turned as white as a sheet, like he’d seen a ghost, or a monster.

“What’s wrong, Nick? Who is that?” Belle asked, looking up at Nick for answers. His jaw tightened, and his eyes stayed fixed on the shadowy figure as he ushered Belle into the car.

“Nick.” Belle warned with a stern glance, and looked over at her husband in the driver’s seat. He breathed in a heavy sigh and looked down into his lap, before he put on a smile and took Belle’s hand.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong sweetheart. Just forget about it.” Nick said with a reassuring smile. He turned the ignition and the car moved forward, driving past the shadow as Belle tried to make out more detail. The person moved deeper into the darkness of the alleyway, but Belle was sure she made out that it was a man with grey, mangled hair. Belle tried to believe her husband that it was nothing and to forget about it, but something seemed off. Why would he react like that if it were nothing?

The next morning, Belle woke with the question still nagging her mind, and her neck feeling stiffer. Now, she felt slightly feverish, and her forehead was hot to the touch.

“Perhaps you should stay home, Belle.” Nick suggested, fastening his cuff-links as Belle put on her shoes. She turned to face him as she swung her coat over her shoulders.

“I’m fine, Nick. I promised Mary-Margaret I’d meet her at Granny’s, she seemed worried about something.” Belle kissed him quickly before she left their bedroom and headed to Main Street. When she entered the diner, and spotted Mary-Margaret in the last booth, Belle tried her best to shake off her worries and blurring vision. Mary-Margaret rose and hugged Belle, it had felt like a century since she had seen her old friend- when if Belle thought about it, Belle and Nick had only seen the Nolan’s three days before the accident.

As Belle sat down across from Mary-Margaret and ordered an iced-tea, Belle looked around the diner and her eyes fixed on the few other returned she knew about. One, sitting at the bar, had sweat on his brow.

“Guess there’s a bug going around or something.” Belle mumbled, and focused back to Mary-Margaret- who seemed in perfect health.

“You sounded worried on the phone, is everything alright with David?” Belle asked.

“Oh, no! David’s fine. We’re both fine, it’s….It’s about Detective Swan, actually.” Mary-Margaret whispered. Belle frowned.

“Miss Swan? What about her?”  

“I’m worried about her, ever since Sheriff Graham died…something’s seemed off about her.”

Belle pursed her lips, because unfortunately Belle had a very strong inkling she knew what Mary-Margaret was talking about. The truth about Detective Swan….Emma Swan. It wasn’t Belle’s secret to share, and she saw how much Emma had struggled that day, even before what happened with Graham.

“Well, she lost someone she cared about. I think we all know better than others how hard that is.” Belle tried to explain. The diner seemed to be getting warmer each passing second, Belle shrugged off her coat and small cardigan she was wearing underneath. It made no difference. 

“Oh, of course. I know that, but I can’t shake this feeling something else is going on. That night she called and said she had something really important to tell us about Emma, and then she just closed off. I’ve tried to ask her, to help her with whatever she’s struggling with, but I can’t get through her walls.”

Belle listened and tried her to best to maintain her composure, but couldn’t help but feel touched at how much Mary-Margaret cared about Emma, how she reacted like a mother to her pain without even knowing it was her daughter. Belle couldn’t be the one to reveal Emma’s secret, and betray Miss Swan’s trust like that, but surely a little nudge wouldn’t be so bad.

“She probably just needs some assurance that everything will be fine, that she’s wanted even if she’s the bearer of bad news. It was terrible timing with what happened to Graham, and it’s probably shaken her trust quite a bit. Do something for her to show you care, that you’re willing to listen no matter what.” Belle said, squinting occasionally as she tried to think through the pain in her neck. Perhaps Nick was right, maybe she should have stayed home.

“Thank-you, Belle.” Mary-Margaret said, Belle gave her a parting smile and said she should probably head home, then left the diner. Belle made it halfway down Main Street before she realised she definitely would not make it home in her current state, she was barely able to see at this point and her legs felt like jelly. Luckily, she knew her husband was at work, merely 20 feet away.  
  


By the time she opened the door to Mr Gold’s, the little bell above the door sending screaming shrills through Belle’s ears, Belle had started to cough violently.

“Belle?” Nick’s voice came from the back room, and Belle tried to reach out to the glass bench to steady herself, trying to stop her coughing.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Belle felt Nick’s arm pull her up to keep her straight, and she could just make out his worried eyes before another coughing fit started.

“I think it’s getting worse.” Belle made out between each retching cough, she thought she heard Nick saying something about hospital, when a new surge of coughs started more painful than the last. When Belle looked down at her hand, she saw a spatter of blood.  

“Belle…” The last of her vision faded, and she collapsed like a doll into Nick’s arms.

 

Emma.

 

Emma didn’t let people in, and for good reason. All her life, all she could remember was people leaving. There were the good memories, of when they were there, but they always were shrouded by the dark moment they always left. Pain is always the easiest thing to remember, and the hardest to forget.

If Emma was the same person she was before she set foot in Storybrooke, her bags would already be packed and the bug’s engine running. She would have felt the overwhelming urge of self-preservation, and left all the pain behind her in a trail of dust. Now Emma realised, she couldn’t outrun this, not this time. The pain of loss was staggering, but for once it wasn’t crippling Emma. She had opened up her heart, and it had ended with Graham leaving her. Her walls had shot straight up and she could feel comfortable behind them once again. The hurt and anger always just simmering below the surface. For some reason, Emma hadn’t felt the call to run and leave, for once she decided to keep her feet on the ground. Perhaps she was just exhausted, from consantly running and fighting, maybe she just wanted to finally stand still for more than a minute. She wanted to plant roots and let them grow. Emma tried to tell herself all these things, but whenever Mary-Margaret made her cocoa with cinnamon or David offered to help her with something, Emma pretended those little things were not the reason she wanted to stay. She was afraid to want it, afraid to have it for real. 

For the week following his death, up until his funeral, Emma kept wildly hoping Graham would come back. It wasn’t the most ridiculous of thoughts, Emma rationalised. This was a town where people came back from the dead, she had even done it herself without even knowing about it!

It was also why the Sheriff’s badge still sat on Graham’s desk unattended, despite there being no objection to Emma receiving the mantle. It was Emma who objected. Graham had offered her the job as Deputy, which she had been on the edge of accepting, and cementing herself in this town officially. It felt wrong to take Graham’s job, his badge, his place, if he was going to come back at any minute. He could still come back, Emma thought, even when he was lowered into the ground that morning. It was that single thought of hope that was what kept her going. The impossible was no longer impossible, and Emma wouldn’t give up on that, even as she put on the Sheriff’s badge.

It was less than five seconds after she put on the badge, and was no longer the ‘acting’ Sheriff, that the phones began blaring, and Emma looked over at Graham’s jacket, his boots by the door and the lace she had tied around her wrist. She silently promised him she wasn’t forgetting or replacing him, and the minute he came back Emma would give him his job back.

 

Just over half of the returned population had reported to the Sheriff’s station or the hospital of having flu-like symptoms, which after about a day turned to something much, much worse. So far, no one had died, but many were awfully close. Emma raced to the hospital to help wherever she could, to keep her mind from thinking about two things in particular. One, how much she missed Graham. Two, this morning her temperature was 100.9°F.

First thing she did when she arrived at the hospital was speak to Dr Whale, see if he had any idea why only the returned were getting sick, and furthermore why only a certain percentage of them were still unaffected. So far, he like everyone else, were stumped. The symptoms indicated something infectious, was all Whale could figure out. With regular antibiotics and medication failing to make any difference in the returned, Whale could only say whatever it was- medicine meant for living people surely did not treat those who had come back from the dead.

“We have to do something before this gets out of hand, Dr Whale.” Regina barked at the doctor as the three of them met to discuss the situation. Doctors, nurses and patients alike rushing around them.

“I can try and treat them with fluids and antibiotics for the time being, Madame Mayor, but I can’t say how much affect it will have on them.” Whale explained, before he was ushered away by a nurse back into the chaos

“Is Henry okay?” Emma asked, concerned. Regina’s hardened persona faded away and Emma could see the stressed and frightened woman behind the mask she wore as mayor. Emma had not spent much time with the woman, but could see she had her own way for dealing with the world, like Emma did. Emma could imagine the fear she was feeling, she’d only just got her son back and now another crisis had appeared.

“So far he seems fine, thank god. He doesn’t have any symptoms.” Regina said, and Emma felt her shoulders relax slightly.

“I’d keep him away from all this as best you can, maybe he won’t get sick at all. Some returned are completely fine.” Emma told Regina, thinking about Mary-Margaret and David. This morning they had seemed in perfect health, though Emma had rushed out the door quicker than David could say ‘Good Morning’. Emma couldn’t quite shake the two of them out of her head, and started wondering if it was because she was worried about them…

“Are you feeling alright, Miss Swan? You don’t look too good, yourself”. Emma felt Regina’s eyes wander up and down, examining the lack of jacket despite the chilly morning, the sweat on her brow and difficulty catching her breath.

“I’m fine, fine. Just trying to help everyone.” Emma lied, and Regina’s eyes narrowed. Emma rushed off, the last thing she needed was the mayor finding out she was a returned today.

 

They set up a triage system in Storybrooke General’s ER, and cautioned those not showing symptoms to stay away for fear of this spreading. It wasn’t the only thing spreading however. Paranoia of the returned had become paramount; what would happen, if this mysterious disease transferred to the non-returned? A certain percentage of Storybrooke had begun to grow more and more apprehensive of those who had come back. Emma had overheard talk about them and their concerns, that they believed the returned were unnatural- and the sign of worse things to come. On her way to the hospital, she had passed a group of whispering men and caught a few titbits.

“Now they’re spreading diseases, what if normal people catch it? What then? We have to do something to stop this before the whole town is wiped off the map.”

It worried Emma, but today, gossiping townspeople were the least of her worries. She had to find a way to stop this, and stop it fast. As Whale was busy attending to the sick, pushing fluids and hoping their immune systems would kick in on their own, Emma paced up and down the hall to try and steady her breathing. Emma had her finger prised to dial a number already entered on her phone, a number to reach for help. She was feeling in over her head, how could a private investigator help treat and cure an unknown disease on an unknown scientific impossibility? Doing nothing meant risking the lives of countless people, yet hitting call also entailed its own risks.

Outside of this town, Emma was the only person who knew about the returned. The secret was kept encompassed within the town lines, and everyone-including the paranoid ones- knew letting this secret out meant bad things for all involved. It meant disease control, it meant quarantine, army, police and scary men in white hazmat suits. When people are met with that they can’t explain or control, they try to explain and control it with power and force, Emma knew. It meant expelling the risk.

Another returned was wheeled on a stretcher past Emma, and Emma recognised the frantic and scared husband that trailed behind them.

“Belle? Mr Gold?”

Emma followed them as the paramedics wheeled her into the Emergency Room, a doctor pulling Mr Gold away for medical details, who pleadingly asked Emma to stay with his frightened wife until he got back. Emma nodded and sat by Belle's head. 

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, we’re going to figure out what’s going on.” Emma comforted Belle, whose shirt was spattered with coughed up blood. Belle looked up at her with a purposeful look.

“Are you…” Belle breathed out, before she began coughing again, Emma helped her hold a handkerchief to her mouth.

“Yeah,…fever and blurred vision. So far no one's noticed.” Emma whispered back, looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. Ever since Belle figured out Emma’s secret, Emma felt she could trust her. Without Graham, she was the only one Emma could confide in now.

“We need to call for help, for a scientist or someone to help us treat this.”

“You can’t, Emma! They’ll find out about us!” Belle said frantically.

“I know, but I don’t know how to help you, help everyone, I can’t!”

Mr Gold returned just as Belle began coughing up blood again, and Emma yelled out for a doctor to come and help. Emma wandered off and tried her best to stay on her feet, despite the ground now feeling like jelly. Emma knew Belle was right, they couldn’t bring this to the outside world, but Emma was still at a loss as how to help everyone, before the situation got worse.

“Detective.”

Emma turned to see Whale heading towards her with a sombre expression, and tilted his head to the hallway away from others. Emma met him there, and he fidgeted with the scrub cab in his hands.

“Fluids aren’t working as treatment, they’re getting worse, we just lost one returned.” Whale said regretfully, “And I’m about out of options here, Detective. If we can’t treat them, we could lose them all.” Emma looked to Whale, and saw the worry in his eyes.

“Someone you care about is sick aren’t they?”

“A uh….An old friend, yeah.” Whale said distantly, as he looked back over to the chaos of people and nurses. Emma followed his stare hopelessly, there had to be something they could do to help them. All these people who had come back didn’t deserve to have their second chance ripped away so quickly, especially when the other half of the returned were perfectly fine.

“That’s it…” Emma realised, and Whale looked at her confused.

“What’s it?”

“Half of the returned are perfectly healthy, they’re not affected at all by this disease! What if we used them to treat the sick ones?” Emma questioned, and Whale thought through her plan carefully.

“It’s very risky, but it might work. It’s our only option at this point.” Whale deliberated, and Emma pushed through the increasing degree of her symptoms. She couldn’t stop now, not when she was this close to saving these people. Emma couldn’t risk being outed yet.

“I know who can help us, don’t worry I’ll bring them here.” Emma swore, and rushed off, but not before Whale called back out to her.

“Hurry, please. We just lost one returned, we can't lose any more..” He said, and Emma paused in her steps, nodding and rushing off to find Mary-Margaret and David.

 

Mr Gold.

 

Dr Whale had assured him they were working on a cure, but since they had arrived at the hospital, three people had already died. Belle had been given as much treatment and medication as they could offer, but since she was a returned, nothing seemed to work. Gold had never been more afraid in his life, the thought of losing Belle all over again hurt more than the 28 years he had spent without her. There was no way he could go through that again.

Belle lay on her side in the hospital bed, struggling to breathe slightly. Her coughing fits had stopped for now, and at first Gold had been relieved. Maybe it was a sign she was getting better, maybe the antibiotics were working. Then he had seen the progression of the disease in others around the hospital. First it was a fever, then aching and soreness, followed by coughing up blood. The final stage that three others had succumbed to, was a coma, and Belle said she was feeling tired.

Gold sat in the chair beside her, holding her hand to his mouth and kissing it reassuringly. She kept her eyes open, and never strayed from his. He was afraid if she looked away they would close and never open again, and Gold could see she was afraid of the same thing.

“She’ll fix this, Emma will find a way to fix it.” Belle croaked in her weak and scratched voice that sent needles into Gold’s heart. He let go of one of his hands from hers to stroke her hair away from her face.

“She will, don’t you worry, Belle. Just hang on, please.” Belle smiled up at him, even on the brink of death her smile sent so much warmth and hope into him. Her smile faded slightly, and she creased her brow.

“Who did you see outside the shop? Nick, please…you can tell me anything. Who was it in the shadow?” Belle asked, and Gold sighed. He had to tell her the truth, and she knew it too. No matter how afraid or cowardly he felt, Gold had to tell Belle. No more lies, he promised himself. If she lived, no more lies.

“His name was Malcolm.”

Belle sat up slightly, as much as she could in her condition to better see Nick.

“Your father’s name was Malcolm, I remember seeing it in your records.”

“A cowardly and drunken man I am glad you never met. He had never wanted to be responsible, for me or for anything. One night, when I was eight or nine, he wrapped his car around a tree after a night of drinking. I was in the backseat, and my mother was in the front. She died, and he ran away. I heard many years later that he died in New York from a heart attack. There was no funeral, nothing to inherit, I just signed a form and my father ceased to exist to me.”

Belle reached up and touched her hand to Nick’s cheek, capturing the few tears he had shed.

“I’m sorry…I understand why you didn’t tell me about it before, but I’m glad you did.” Belle whispered, and Nick rested his head on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t want to lose you again, Belle. I can’t lose anyone else, you’re all I have in this world.” He cried, and she held her hand on his face.

“You’ll never lose me, Nick. You never did, I’m always with you no matter what.” She spoke, and kissed him gently before resting her head back on the pillow. They sat in silence for most of the night, just waiting and waiting for any news or improvements. Gold never let go of Belle’s hand, and tried to keep her awake for fear of her slipping into the final stage of the disease. He held on to her promise that she would never leave him, because he knew she meant it with all her heart, as would he.

Around 2am, Whale came in and said they found a way to treat the sick, and Gold finally let himself breathe again. Miss Swan had figured out a way to use the healthy returned to help cure the affected; the combination of transfusing healthy blood with the medicine, and many returned reported feeling better. By sunrise, Belle had color in her cheeks again and was laughing at Whale’s terrible jokes. Her fever went down and she could stand without falling over, though still felt slightly dizzy from everything that her body had gone through over the last 72 hours. No one else had died, and no one else reported feeling sick after the treatment. It had worked. 

 

Gold took Belle home the following day after she was given the all clear, and strict bed rest for a few more days. Gold could think of no better conclusion to this nightmare than caring for his precious wife’s every need and desire.

He brought her a breakfast tray in the morning with all her favorite things, from pancakes and bacon to the book she left on the kitchen counter before this nightmare of week. He would spend the mornings lying in bed with her like they used to when they were younger. It was almost like this was what they needed, one more reminder to stop cautiously living in fear of something taking it away. And they had survived such a thing already now, surely this meant they were in the clear now. If they could make it through this, mysterious illnesses, almost death, well….actual death, and 28 years apart…they could make it through anything.

“Why do you think Malcolm returned?” Belle asked as she picked apart her pancake, and Gold lounged beside her drinking her leftover orange juice.

“I wish I knew, but I do know I won’t let him ruin our happiness, or anyone’s happiness again.” Gold vowed, “Belle, he was a dangerous man before his death. Charming, but dangerous. He didn’t care for anyone but himself. If you cross paths with him, be very careful.”

“I will, and you’re right.” Gold frowned at her, waiting for an answer, and she just drew him in to kiss him longingly.

“Nothing can ruin this, us. We’re together, and that’s all that matters.” Belle beamed at him, before grinning devilishly and the breakfast tray was flung off the bed. Gold lost all of his fears and worries in between the sheets, lost all his thoughts except how much he loved Belle, and always would.

 

Emma.

 

Emma had barely made it to her car without stumbling, and trying to get the key in the door was another challenge in of itself as her vision started blurring. Eventually, she gave up and threw her keys on the ground in frustration. Emma looked up, and tried to figure out how long it would take to walk to the apartment from the hospital, and if she had enough time to make it there. The returned were getting worse, one already dead, and Emma was losing her battle at hiding her sickness. If she could just make it to Mary-Margaret’s, explain everything to them and get them to Dr Whale, everything would be okay. She had to save them all, it was her responsibility, Emma could worry about herself later.

An hour later, she made it to the front door, and held onto the frame as she took shallow breaths to compose herself. Emma wasn’t going to be saving anybody if she passed out before explaining the situation to Mary-Margaret and David. Once she told them everything, they could help organise a treatment with Dr Whale using the other healthy returned. She just had to make it through the door.

When she finally opened it and entered, her boxes were still where she left them at the foot of the stairs, only now Emma noticed, one was open. David was standing in the kitchen washing dishes, when he noticed Emma walk in and looked up to the loft. Mary-Margaret soon came down, who stood at the bottom of the stairs with a strange, hostile look on her face. Emma soon put the clues together, and felt her guard drop.

 

“What are you doing?” She asked Mary-Margaret, and tried to put on a strong face to protect herself.                                                                      

“I thought it would be nice if I unpacked your things for you, let you feel more settled in. I wanted you to know that you were welcome with us, then I found this in one of your boxes.” Mary-Margaret said, as she reached into the open box and pulled out the woollen baby blanket, with the purple trim and Emma’s name on the edge. Oh no.  

“Look, Mary-Margaret, I can explain-“

“Explain how you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Where’s our daughter? Where did you find this blanket?” Mary-Margaret yelled, and David walked over to try and calm her down, who just shrugged him off. How was Emma even going to begin to explain this? Of all the ways she’d thought of telling them the truth, this was not one of them.  

“I didn’t find it, and I promise I can tell you everything. But I need you two to help me with something first. Please, trust me this can wait.”

“It can wait, I can’t. If you or somebody knows something about my daughter I deserve to know. We offered you our home, Detective Swan, we’re your friends! You’ve been here almost two months and you haven’t told us anything about you. We don’t even know your first name.” Mary-Margaret implored, and Emma felt her chest tighten.

“There’s a reason for that, there’s a...a reason for all of this.” Emma’s vision started to blur, and she was acutely aware of David walking over from Mary-Margaret’s side to help her stand.

“Miss Swan, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, fine. Just a little dizzy…” Then the ground gave out from under her, and David was holding her up and Mary-Margaret rushed to them.

“We have to get her to the hospital.” David said, as Emma fought to stay awake, her head feeling as heavy as a bag of bricks. Mary-Margaret stood up to reach for the phone, and Emma blindly reached out to stop her. Mary-Margaret paused, looking down at Emma with her eyes darting wildly as Emma struggled to get the words out.

“My name…my name is Emma.” And then the world went dark.

 

~

 

When she came to, she realise first she was in a hospital bed, second it was night-time, and third that Mary-Margaret was sleeping in the chair by her bedside- holding her hand. Emma felt like she’d been hit by a truck, every inch of her body aching, but no fever, or blurred vision.

“Hey.” Emma tried, her voice croaky and heavy, and Mary-Margaret came to,

“You’re awake.” She realised as she smoothed out her hair and poured Emma some water. As Emma sipped a couple of mouthfuls before handing the cup back to her, Emma looked at Mary-Margaret’s puffy eyes and red cheeks and realised she’d been crying.

“What happened?”

“Dr Whale filled us in when we arrived with you, on your plan for treating everyone. It worked, Emma. All the returned are okay. You’re going to be okay too, you've just been asleep for a few days...Why didn’t you tell us you were a returned too?”

Emma swallowed loudly.

“I didn’t know I was one until I got here. It’s…complicated.” Emma said to Mary-Margaret, who gave Emma a knowing look, that Emma saw clearly in her eyes she was saying enough was enough. She knew enough now. The pieces of information, the blanket, Emma's name, all of it, had together no matter how much Emma tried to hide it.

Emma dropped her head back onto the pillow and stared at the ceiling, knowing the conversation she had been dreading, or fearing, was about to start. All the information was already laid out now, all was left was the hard part. The talking.

“Emma…where did you find the baby blanket?” Mary-Margaret asked cautiously. Emma couldn’t look at Mary-Margaret, she was too afraid to even glance at her to see her reactions, it was easier for Emma to talk to the roof tiles.

“It’s my blanket…I’ve always had it, it was the only thing I had left from my parents when they found me...on December 23rd 1983.” Emma looked back at Mary-Margaret, who closed her eyes as tears spilled over. There it was, the truth, finally.

“You’re….You…” Mary-Margaret tried to say it, but couldn’t manage it.

“I’m your daughter.” Emma finished for her, as Mary-Margaret took a minute to process.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Mary-Margaret implored, and now Emma’s eyes filled with tears.

“I was scared you wouldn’t want me, that I wasn’t your daughter anymore.” Emma said through broken sobs, and Mary-Margaret stood up from her chair to hold her hands on Emma’s face, and kiss her forehead softly.

“You will always be my daughter, Emma. Nothing will ever change that, I swear.” Mary-Margaret said, and hugged her daughter.

After a few seconds, Emma thawed out and hugged her mother back. Her warmth filled a void in Emma she didn’t even know was there, and that she never knew she needed until she had it. Unconditional love had never been a constant in Emma’s life. No one had ever been a constant.

Over Mary-Margaret’s shoulder, Emma spied David walking through the door to her room. Seeing their embrace, and Mary-Margaret’s expression he put two and two together. He walked over and wrapped both Mary-Margaret and Emma in his arms, just like the photo Emma had seen in their album. For the rest of the night, Emma didn’t think about anything else but her parents hugging her for the first time, nothing else mattered for now.

 


	6. You Can’t Run Away From This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second wave of returned begin to appear, leaving Emma overwhelmed and David offers to return to his old job as deputy to help her out. Regina’s attempt at managing her new life with Robin & Roland and her old one with Henry backfires as Henry starts acting out. Belle gives Gold a new present, and Gold tries to stop his world from crumbling apart when Malcolm resurfaces.

   
  


Emma.  
  
  


It seemed in Storybrooke, as soon was one crisis ended, another would just spring up out of nowhere and keep Emma’s feet constantly moving. There was never a dull moment in this little town, she often found herself sighing, but secretly Emma enjoyed it.  
It was like the beginning days when she started out as a private investigator. The thrill of the chase, and running down leads, feeling like she was making a difference in the world and knowing her place in it all. Now, Emma knew her place, and felt the overwhelming sense of purpose and responsibility to fight the constant crises in Storybrooke. It thrilled her, and terrified her.  
  
Suddenly, she wasn’t just going to be in and out once the case was solved. People were now counting on her, looking up to her for leadership and guidance. Her parents, were looking at her and now seeing a daughter. How was she going to live up to all these expectations people wanted her to be? Daughter, Friend, Family, Returned, Sheriff, Savior…some days she missed just being Emma.

Shortly after the mysterious outbreak, that came as quickly as it appeared, a second wave of returned began showing up- this time in greater numbers than before. Granny’s was filled to capacity, the town hall had become the new, temporary home to many of the second batch of returned, and resources were starting to be spread too thin. Storybrooke was a town meant for small means and a small population, now they had people popping up left, right and centre, from ten years ago to 300 years ago. Emma barely had time to eat breakfast with all the chaos this many people with nowhere to go meant.

“You have to at least have something before you go,” Mary-Margaret implored, chasing a frantic Emma with a plate. Emma had one shoe on and her toothbrush still in her mouth, not to mention the scary scene that was her un-kept hair.

“I can’t, Mary-Margaret, There’s so much I have to do this morning before I meet with the mayor.” Emma tried to say, but her toothbrush blocked out must of the dialogue.

“Just a bite, Emma! Please!” Mary-Margret encourage with a smile, and held up the freshly heated pop-tart. Emma eyed it down, and snatched it up in a second. She could never say no to a pop-tart.

“Thanks, Mary-Margaret.” Emma said between hasty mouthfuls, and Mary-Margaret visibly relaxed and smiled again. Emma found her second shoe and sat at the foot of the stairs to put it on. Mary-Margaret put down the china plate and hovered near Emma.

“You know, now that everything’s out in the open between us…Mary-Margaret’s a bit formal.” She said, and Emma looked up confused.

“You could call me Mom if you wanted,” Mary-Margaret suggested, and Emma tried her hardest not to see the hope in her eyes.

“Uh, I’m….It’s still a bit…I…” Emma spluttered, not really sure what she was trying to say. Her panic and fear overtaking logical sentences forming in her brain.

“Oh, no no it’s fine! I get it, too soon.” Mary-Margaret quickly rushed to cover her tracks, Emma smiled as reassuringly and apologetically as she could as she headed to the door. Though she was still rushing about the small apartment, she didn’t rush passed Mary-Margaret quickly enough to see the pain forming behind her eyes.  
  


Emma shut the door behind her, and quickly jumped down the stairs as she continued pulling a scarf and beanie around herself. She was almost out of sight when she heard the door open and close again. Emma dreaded turning around and seeing poor Mary-Margaret’s face. She was sorry for shutting her down before, and felt terrible. It didn’t change that all of this was still frightening for Emma. Believing it was one thing, but Emma was miles away from accepting it all.

“Emma, wait.” Emma breathed a small sigh of relief when she heard David’s voice calling out after her, and turned to look up at him on the stairwell.

“If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed with all this, maybe I can lend a hand.”

“Look, David. I’m just not ready to call her that yet-“

“No, no. I mean with the returned.” David explain and walked down the stairs towards Emma.

“Oh…right.”

“I was a deputy before, remember? Maybe I can help out a bit. Lessen the workload.” David suggested, and Emma couldn’t help but sense he had an ulterior motive behind his suggestion. He wasn’t lying, he genuinely wanted to help her out. But that also meant he would be spending more time around her, getting to know her…That scared Emma just as much as calling them Mom & Dad.

“Yeah, sure…okay.” Emma muttered through her teeth, and continued down the stairs. She was well aware of David following swiftly behind her, wondering how on earth she was going to get through the latest Storybrooke Crisis with her own crisis now working alongside her.

 

A call came into the station of a body found just under the toll bridge, on the outskirts of town. Emma and David drove out to investigate with Dr Whale serving as coroner. The body was by the edge of the water, half submerged. As they approached, Emma noticed David’s hesitant steps and the look in his eye as he looked around at their surroundings, finally fixing on the bridge above them.

“What is it?” Emma asked, and stopped to turn and face David.

He seemed lost in deep thoughts for a moment, before he came back and shook his head clear, looking into Emma’s eyes with a very strange sorrow.

“This was where it happened. Where we, uh….” David said quietly, and pointed to the dark, freezing water of the river next to them.

“Oh…” _Where our car dove into the freezing water and we all died._ Was what he was trying to say. How strange it was, Emma realised. To be looking at the exact same location where you died 28 years ago.

“You okay?” Emma tried, and David seem to shake the last off his realisation.

“Yeah, yeah. Just….strange thing to come across, I guess.” David said and walked off to join Dr Whale examining the body. Emma’s feet didn’t move as quickly, as she looked up at the bridge. One section of the railing was newer than the rest. Though she had no memory of that night, she could almost hear the screeching of the tires, the tearing of metal and the icy plunge into the water. Emma could understand what David was feeling, it was like there was an icy chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather. Emma shuffled off quickly and towards the others.

“It looks like he was stabbed to death.” She overheard Whale say as she approached them, setting eyes on the body for the first time. It wasn’t anyone she recognised, but his clothes looked slightly too old for the times and his hair was long and matted. He had grey in his hair, but he didn’t look terribly old.

“Any ID?” David asked, and Whale dug around in the man’s pockets before pulling out a little black wallet. David took it from Whale and pulled out the ID.

“Paul Lester….Date of birth August 4th 1928.” David handed the ID to Emma.

“He sure doesn’t look like he’s in his 80’s.”

“A returned…” Whale gathered, looking over the body and the large red stain in his shirt, “But who would want him dead?”

Emma narrowed her eyes as she stared at the body, until she noticed what her eyes were searching for. She asked Whale to roll the body slightly, and as he lifted Mr Lester Emma found what she was looking for. Hidden beneath the body, was a large knife with a wooden handle.

“Guessing that would be the murder weapon.” David said and pulled out an evidence bag.

Then it hit Emma, a flash of memory stored in her brain that hadn’t been processed yet. But upon seeing it again, brought it back to the forefront. It had all happened so quickly, and Emma had barely gotten a look at the man’s face, but she had seen the knife, and its distinctive wooden handle with its carving. A large and grand S on the handle.

“I recognise this…” Emma’s mouth dropped open, and her heart began pounding again. David and Whale looked up to her for an answer, but Emma couldn’t speak, after realising where she had seen this knife before. What this knife had done.

This was the knife that killed Graham.

 

 

Regina. 

 

 

She didn’t know how to love very well, and more than anything Regina sought to blame that on her mother. Her mother, Cora, had been a harsh and callous woman from what Regina remembered. It was harder even so, to remember any moments her mother had been affectionate or giving, to Regina or anyone.  Cora had groomed her daughter to be the perfect carbon-copy of herself, as much as Regina resisted Cora’s visions for her. It led to Regina being very closely guarded with her heart, and very open at the same time.  
  
Daniel was the first person she loved completely, she met him just after Cora died of a heart attack when Regina was 14. Every moment of Regina’s life became proving her mother wrong. Love wasn’t weakness, it wasn’t a distraction from becoming the best version of yourself, it was a part of finding yourself. Daniel had been everything to Regina, their love pure and untouched by darkness. They had a whole life together, everything in front of them. Until Daniel was diagnosed with cancer, and their happy ending came crushing down quickly, and painfully.

Without Regina ever realising, after Daniel’s death she slowly became the person she swore she would never become: her mother. Love seemed pointless, when they would end up leaving or dying anyway. Regina ran and was elected mayor, unopposed, just like Cora did before her. It was easier to hate the world than re-finding happiness, Regina discovered.

Then eventually, her heart thawed out again, and Regina found Henry. Henry breathed life back into Regina, reminded her of the person she was before grief transformed her, and brought back the good into her cold heart.

Henry became the place Regina kept her heart, and when he died too, Regina didn’t know how to survive that kind of heartbreak again. The fiery rage she had let herself be engulfed by after Daniel’s death couldn’t even find a spark in her new grief. Like even the darkness inside her mourned for little Henry. Instead Regina was just left with an emptiness, that she knew she would carry with her the rest of her life. The pain of still being a mother, and loving her child even though Henry was dead.

Robin had filled the hole slightly, and Roland had brought a slight smile to her face again, Regina found a normalcy again. But it was never the same, she didn’t allow herself to love fully again like she had with Daniel or Henry.  

The second Henry ran back into Regina’s arms that night, the hole in Regina’s heart was gone in an instant. The joy she felt for getting him back, despite the impossibility of it all, was too much to contain. Regina had never believed in second chances, until Henry. Henry was her second chance when Daniel died to love again, and now he was her second chance again. Another chance to not let the darkness inside her win. She had her son back, and she vowed to never venture into the darkness again, to not be the woman her mother tried to make her be.

 

Henry’s room was just like he left it, and Regina did everything she could to make it seem as though nothing had changed the time Henry was gone. But there was no changing the fast that Robin and Roland were now permanent fixtures in her life. Regina felt almost guilty for allowing such a big change to occur, as though it was offensive to Henry’s memory. Robin had once convinced her Henry would have wanted her to move on, and be happy. That statement had an entirely new implication now that Henry was back, and saw the changes in his home. The home that had been just him and Regina. Roland’s room was next to Henry’s, and photos of Robin and Roland hung on the walls with Henry’s and Regina’s. There was no fixing this change, for Roland and Robin had become an important part in her life, and she in there’s. They had become a family, but that hadn’t changed the fact Henry was a part of that family too, despite being dead.

Regina’s attempts to fix the massive gap between her lives had only backfired each time she tried. The closer she tried to mend the distance between her and Henry caused by his death, only further pushed her away from her new life. Henry saw the way Regina was around Robin, but the worst of all was with Roland. She had never wanted Henry to see Roland as a replacement, but no matter what way it went, that’s all her first son could see. Roland wasn’t old enough to fully understand it all, and could only feel upset that Regina wasn’t giving him attention anymore. Regina tried and failed to be mother’s to both of them, but it all came crashing down one night Regina was putting Roland to bed. Normally it was Robin who would send Roland off to sleep, but he had gone out to help the Sheriff and Deputy.

Roland asked for a lullaby, and Regina sang “You Are My Sunshine” to him, as it was the only lullaby she remembered. It wasn’t until Regina had finished the song, and Roland’s eyes and drooped, that Regina turned off the light and turned to see Henry standing in the doorway watching them. Regina saw the heartbreak on Henry’s face, and his streaming tears, before he broke off in a run. Regina called out to him, and realised with a crushing memory that she had always sung that song to Henry to make him fall asleep. Henry bolted through the front door and slammed it behind him before Regina could stop him, and no matter how loud she screamed into the night, Henry wasn’t coming back.  

Regina collapsed on the foot of her grand staircase in tears, wanting nothing more than to rush off after her son, but she couldn’t leave Roland unattended either. Once again Regina found herself being pulled in two, and forced to choose between two halves of herself. Regina called Robin, and told him she needed him to come home so she could find Henry. He was home in under ten minutes, and offered to come help her look. Regina refused, saying she had to find him herself. He was her son, and she couldn’t lose him again.

Regina searched all night, and after a quick phone call to Sheriff Swan, Emma had promised to be on the lookout for Henry as well. It was well into the early hours of the morning, that Regina found him. She parked her car a little ways away and turned off the ignition. Regina walked the remaining distance to the town line, where Henry sat huddled in a tiny, wet mess looking out of the town. Despite the ground being wet and cold, Regina sat down beside him, and looked out into the night with him.

“I wanted to run away, to leave this place. Then I realised I didn’t know what would happen if I left, if I would go back to being dead.” Henry confessed, and Regina tried her hardest to not break down into tears.

“You can’t run away from this, Henry. It’s dangerous out there, and….and I can’t lose you again, Henry. You’re my son.” Regina said, her eyes glossing over.

“But Roland is your son now.” Henry said softly, looking down at the concrete.

“…Yes. Roland is my son now,” Regina agreed, there was no denying that, and she couldn’t lie or pretend with Henry any longer. It was only causing them both pain.

“Roland, and Robin, might be my family now…But you are always going to be my son, Henry. I am not Roland’s mom, I am _your_ mom and always will be. Death didn’t change that, and life won’t either.”

Henry turned and looked up at Regina, and she saw the understanding in his eyes mixed in with the pain. Regina leant in further and wrapped her arm around him.

“They can be your family too, we can all be one family, Henry. I didn’t replace you...you’re irreplaceable. And I will always love you, I always have.” Regina breathed, unable to stop the tears in her eyes. Henry reached up and wrapped his arms around his mother.

“I know, mom. I love you too.” Regina clung tighter to her little prince, grateful for every extra moment she got with him that she never thought she would have.

 

Regina took Henry home, and tucked him into bed, stroking his nose fondly until he fell asleep, and all felt as it should be for the briefest of moments. Her son was home, she had a family, the hole in her heart seems like a distant memory, and Regina smiled. She took a moment to wander outside after Henry was fast asleep, and stared up at the stars. She had often done this when she thought of Daniel, even when Henry was gone, it had given her comfort whenever she felt lost.

“You always did have your head up in the stars didn’t you, my dear?”

It had been decades since she heard her voice, but Regina could recognise it anywhere. It was the same voice, that she had heard when she was fourteen years old, visiting her in the hospital. Her last words, still rung in her mind, as a stark contrast to all the cold and heartless things she had said before.

_“This…would have been enough. You…would have been enough.”_

Regina turned and saw her watching her from the trees, not aged a day from the last moment Regina saw her, her eyes calculating and deceiving as ever.

“Mother…” Regina confirmed, with a cold chill racing down her spine.

 

Emma.

 

 

In the bottom drawer of Graham’s desk, well- Emma’s desk, Graham had stashed a folder full of notes and clues about the returned. Emma realised, he had been investigating it on his own, hiding this from Emma. Attached to the file, was a letter from Graham.

 

_My Dear Emma,_

_I know the world seems utterly strange to you right now, especially after what you have revealed and entrusted to me today, that you are a returned._

_I, like you, have been drifting through my own life, unaware of my purpose…and lonely. I didn’t realise what I was looking for until it hit me, until I met you._

_You go through life at a distance from those around you, and I don’t believe it a coincidence that two lonely souls like us found each other- I think we’re meant to help one another._

_I believe, with all my heart, my purpose is to help you solve this mystery, and to help you accept who you are. I want nothing more than to help you tear down those walls you’ve built around yourself. And if I’m not the one who is destined to do so, I can be grateful for whatever small part I play in your life to help you get there. You need people in your life to remind you that are not alone, and I implore you not to push these people away that you need most of all._

_And this is how I want to help you get there, by giving you the information you will need to help solve this mystery, and to solve the mystery of yourself. It is only a start, but I hope soon I will have more information to give you._

_You have helped me find my purpose, I hope you find yours._

_Yours,  
Graham._

  
  
“Are you alright, Emma?”

Emma snapped up from the letter in front of her, to see David watching her from the doorway to the office, she quickly wiped away the few years that had escaped and handed David the file. As he perused through the dossier, Emma gently folded the letter and put it in her pocket.

“Graham was looking into the returned.” David looked up from the file, Emma nodded.

“Yeah…for me.” She said in a crackly voice, and David handed back the file.

“So do you think he knew who attacked him? Someone he was investigating?” David said and pointed to the file.

“I don’t know…what I do know is that it’s the same person who killed that returned. Same knife.”

“Why would they have wanted Graham dead?” David asked, Emma shrugged.

“Perhaps he was getting too close to the truth, whoever is responsible I need to find them. Graham deserves justice. And anyone else this person has hurt.” Emma declared, and David nodded.

“A lot of people aren’t happy with us, the returned coming back,” David commented, Emma grimaced in reply. The whispers around town of them had grown considerably since the outbreak, so much that many returned kept to themselves now. Emma picked up the photo of the engraving on the knife.

“Hopefully this can narrow down the search, a knife like this won’t have come from anywhere.” Emma said, and David stood up.

“Only place around town that would sell something like that would be Gold’s.”

 

When they arrived at Gold’s shop, they found the man himself standing idly at the counter, flicking through an old photo album that he quickly slammed shut once seeing Emma and David enter.

“A Sheriff and a Veterinarian, now this should be interesting.” Gold joked, and David chuckled slightly too.

“I’m back to being a deputy again for the time being, Gold. One of the returned has been killed.”

“Killed? By who?” Belle appeared through the curtains, with a look of concern on her face and went to stand by her husband, who patted her hand in comfort.

“We don’t know yet, we’re hoping this can help identify who it was.” Emma said, and handed Gold the photograph, “Do you recognise it?”

“I believe so, it belonged in a set of knives I sold quite some time ago.” Gold informed them.

“Do you have the name of who bought it?” David asked, and Gold ventured into a large file filled with names and numbers. As his fingers searched, David began idly walking and looking around at the shop’s many wonders. Emma caught Belle’s eyes.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Emma said, and Belle smiled.

“Thank you, I’m happy to see you and David are mending fences.” Belle said quietly, Emma glanced over her shoulder at David- who was staring intently at a glass mobile.

“It’s uh….a work in progress.” Emma grimaced, and Belle nodded in sympathy.

“The man who bought the knives set was a Mr Albert Spencer, he’s the district attorney.” Mr Gold informed Emma, and handed her the contact details.

“Wonderful.” Emma sighed sarcastically and nodded goodbye to Belle. Emma walked up to David, who was still staring at the same mobile as before. Upon closer inspection, Emma saw they were unicorns.

“Pretty.” Emma remarked, and waved the card in front of David. “We’ve got a name.”

David nodded, and seemed to hesitate with saying what he was about to say.

“These unicorns hung above your crib, they were a baby shower gift from our friends Aurora and Phillip.” David recalled, and Emma bit down on her lip.  
This was getting too much more than she could handle. Seeing where she died, where her family died, the mobile that had hung above her as a baby, part of a happy life she never got to have….it was too much. Emma gave David the details for Spencer and left, telling him she had something else to take care of. Emma tried to block out David calling out to her.

 

She didn’t know where to go, where to hide from the reality she had been so scared to want. For years all she’d wanted was a family to tell her memories about their lives together, sit around and just be a family. How was she ever going to get used to calling David & Mary-Margaret Mom & Dad when they still barely felt like her parents.

She couldn’t go back to the apartment, that would be the first place they’d look. The second was Granny’s, so that was ruled out too. Emma could only think of one place she could hide out.

She was there for about an hour, stewing in her thought when she saw two bikes riding toward her. Emma smiled and waved when she recognised one little boy riding the bikes was Henry. The other boy, much younger than Henry went to play by the swings, and Henry walked over to sit next to Emma.

“I see you made a new friend.” Emma said, and Henry shrugged.

“He’s sort of my brother, it’s weird. But Roland’s cool, and Mom said we could play here together while Robin went shopping.”

Emma smiled, and noticed how much livelier Henry seemed than the last time they sat here.

“You look sad.” Henry observed as the two of them watched Roland.

“Still trying to get used to it all I guess.”

“You mean you’re parents?”

“Yeah…” Emma said, and leaned against the side of the playground castle.

“You know, I gave my mom another chance. Maybe you should too.” Henry suggested, and Emma bumped his shoulder playfully.

“When did you get so smart, kid?” Henry laughed, and Emma couldn’t help but join in. The kid had become one of her only friends in Storybrooke, a number that was already greater than the friends she had had in her entire life. She was glad she had Henry’s point of view, sometimes the simplistic mind of a child was exactly what Emma needed.

“Go play with your sort-of-brother, I’ll catch up with you later.” Emma got up and walked back to town, and Henry chased after Roland.

 

Emma found herself wandering around town with no earthly idea where to go, and decided she might as well return to her new second-home, the station. Luckily, David was nowhere to be seen. Emma resigned herself to spending the night sleeping at the station, and perhaps making some headway on this case in the morning.

Emma ended up lying in the locker room, holding Graham’s note in her hands across her chest. She wondered what he would say or tell her to do if he was still here, and the words from his page jumped out at Emma. “ _You need people in your life to remind you that are not alone, and I implore you not to push these people away that you need most of all.”_

There was a soft knock from the doorway, and Emma sat up to see Mary-Margaret waiting in the doorway. Emma put away Graham’s letter, and fiddled with her jacket as Mary-Margaret walked into the locker room.

“David talk to you?”

“He mentioned to me about the mobile, and how you reacted after he told you about it.” Mary-Margaret said, and Emma stood up to place her jacket on the hanger and stand on the opposite side of the room to Mary-Margaret.

“I just…had to go do something.” Emma lied, but one disbelieving scorn from Mary-Margaret  had Emma slump in resignation.

“I wanted to talk, Emma.” Mary-Margaret said waiting for Emma’s approval. Emma shrugged her shoulder slightly and Mary-Margaret sat on the bench.

“Ever since you came out of the hospital, and now we are all together, finally...I can’t help but feel you’re not happy about it.”

The look of despair on Mary-Margaret’s face sent waves of guilt through Emma. Emma knew she was distancing herself, but she had never stopped to consider that it hurt others, not just her. Emma remembered Graham’s final written words to her, don’t push them away when you need them most.

“I am happy! It’s just….I was angry at you for so long. Wondering how you chose to let me grow up without you. Now I know, you didn’t choose any of it, you died! and I died too, but came back without you two. I know you had no choice, in any of it…But no matter the circumstances, it doesn’t change the fact my entire life I was alone…an orphan. I’m just…I’m not used to being wanted, to have people…”

Mary-Margaret jumped up from her seat and wrapped her arms around Emma, and Emma not registering until that moment the sobs that were escaping her chest.

“Well, you’re stuck with us now. So, too bad!” Mary-Margaret patted her back, and Emma let out wet chuckles, and leant her head on Mary-Margaret’s shoulder.

“I know we can’t change what happened, but you’re not an orphan anymore, Emma. It’s my job to change that. And we're not going anywhere, no matter how long it takes.” Mary-Margaret pulled away and put a hand affectionately on Emma’s cheek, before giving her one last hug.

“Come on, come home. I made Lasagne.” Mary-Margaret offered, and Emma let out another laugh before taking Mary-Margaret’s hand. She was still learning how to let people in her walls, perhaps not ready to tear them down altogether, but Emma was trying. She owed it to herself, to allow her parents in, and to Graham- Graham’s sole wish for her to find happiness.

 

Gold.

 

 

They found their normalcy again, after the outbreak and Belle’s illness. It was a brief moment of darkness that reminded them of all they had to lose, and that they couldn’t live in the fear of Belle disappearing as soon as she had returned. Nick was more than happy to put that dark cloud behind them and head into their moments of stolen happiness.

When he came home that night, his feet had barely crossed the threshold when Belle launched herself onto him, and attacked his lips with a fiery passion. With the door wide open, with all of Storybrooke to see their fervent making-out, it wasn’t until many minutes later they pulled back up for air.

“I have a surprise for you,” Belle sun playfully, and Nick stole another kiss as he kicked the door shut with his foot.

“ _That_ wasn’t the surprise??” Belle laughed, and Nick’s face felt as though it would crack from smiling so widely. Belle wrapped her arms around his neck to pull herself up for a tiny peck, before flashing him an alluring glance.

“ _Another_ surprise!” Belle declared, and pulled Nick by the hand through their house. She led him up the stairs, to their bedroom before ceremoniously planting Nick on the bed, and running into her closet. Nick had the feeling he was going to like this surprise a lot.

“Close your eyes…” Belle warned out of sight, and Nick feigned rolling his eyes before clamping them shut. He heard some rustling, and Belle’s soft footsteps coming back to him as his imagination ran wild with what she was about to reveal.

Then he heard tiny panting, and something started licking his nose. His eyes flew open and a chestnut puppy with floppy ears was staring him right in the face. Belle, holding said puppy, burst into gleeful laughter and thrusted the puppy into Nick’s arms, before all three of them fell back onto the bed. The little puppy was almost euphoric over the attention it was receiving, before Belle set him off the bed and pulled Nick into another kiss. It was like it was 30 years ago all over again, only better.

“Do you like your surprise?” Belle said as she let her head fall onto the bed, Nick soon joining her and running his finger along her cheek.

“I do, I really do.” He smiled lovingly, and sat up against the headboard, pulling Belle into his chest with him. He breathed in her hair and she played errantly with the button on his shirt, the happiness in Nick’s chest felt almost ready to burst.

“What shall we name it? We can’t possibly have another dog named Thoreau.”

Belle looked up at him with a look of serious concentration and deliberation, Nick followed suit and the puppy began playing with the corner of the rug.

“I think…Einstein.” Nick laughed.

“Yes, he does look like quite the intellect.” Nick remarked as the puppy began chasing its own tail, subsequently losing its balance and landing on its behind. Belle pulled herself up to sit on top of Nick, and attacked him with more death-defying kisses that had Nick seeing stars.

“Alright, Einstein it is,” he mumbled into her lips, more than willing to grant Belle’s every desire and whims. Which he did, repeatedly.

 

The next morning, Belle set off early to start work on the library, and Nick was on puppy duty as it was his day off. Nick decided to show Einstein the town, and to acquaint him with who to avoid and who to _really_ avoid. Einstein was learning from the best, and quickly growled where appropriate on command, and roll over and show his belly when Henry caught eye of him.

 

Nick and Einstein left Granny’s to bring Belle her lunch at the library, when Gold spotted him watching from across the street. Nick made carefully sure no one saw him, and made his way in the direction Malcolm was taking. Nick eventually found him waiting for him at the docks.

“Good to see you again, Nicky. Nice puppy.” Malcolm said, his breath stinking of liquor. Einstein growled from behind Nick’s legs.

“What do you want?” Nick replied curtly, but Malcolm seemed to have no desire to answer the question.

“Your wife is really quite lovely, nicely done, son.” Nick felt his blood boil under his skin, and curled his fists so tightly he was sure he broke skin.

“No more games, _papa.”_ Nick snarled, and Malcolm stopped pacing, “If you go anywhere near Belle…”

“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Malcolm let out a maniacal laugh, “Do you want to take the chance I’ll come back again? Then what will you do?”

Nick gritted his teeth, he knew his father. He remembered how Malcolm's mind worked back when he was a boy after his mother died. Malcolm had dragged him frown bar to bar, used him to pickpocket the townspeople when he ran out of money for drinks, or from gambling. There was only one thing Malcolm desired only two things in this world, and one of them was money.

“You got some money now don’t you, boy? Say this….you give me enough for me to get along with, and I’ll leave you and your missus be. I’ll skip town and you’ll never have to see me again.” Malcolm proposed, but Gold only narrowed his eyes further.

“You want something else, don’t you?”

Malcolm smiled sinisterly, and wandered back to Nick to stand directly in front of him, his face inches from Gold’s.

“The ring, I want the ring. You know which one I’m talking about.” Gold pushed Malcolm away, who stumbled to regain his balance.

“No! Never!”

“It was mine to begin with, I bought it and gave it to your mother! It wasn’t your place to give it to Belle when it belongs to me!” Malcolm argued.

“It’s her wedding ring! I can’t just take it from her!”

Malcolm’s act of laid-back charlatan quickly dissolved to reveal the man Nick really knew, the hot-headed and sinister man underneath the ‘cowardly’ pretence.

“Get me the ring, or I’ll tell your sweet, little wife the truth. I’ll her everything...including Neal.” Malcolm hissed, and Nick felt his blood run cold.

“Bring me the ring tonight, or I’ll tell Belle all the dirty secrets you never want her to find out about. Choice is yours, Nicky.” Malcolm sauntered back towards the town, and Nick felt his knees grow weak. All his life growing up, Nick had been at the mercy of his father, and now Nick felt its crushing weight placed back on his chest.

 

The rest of the afternoon with Belle, Nick tried his best to hide what was really going on inside his mind, what he was planning to. Nick couldn’t risk Malcolm going anywhere near Belle, he knew what his father was capable of. Malcolm will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Someone as pure as Belle had no business being anywhere near someone as horrible as his father, and he would do anything to protect Belle.

It was what he tried to tell himself that night, as Belle blissfully slept that he silently, and slowly, lifted up her left hand to prise the ring off her finger. It was a deep blue sapphire that had made its home there ever since Gold proposed, the same shade as her lovely eyes.  

“Please forgive me, Belle.” Nick whispered as he lifted the finger off her hand, as she continued to sleep soundly while he left to meet Malcolm. It was only a ring, after all. He could buy her another, he tried to rationalise to himself, but he knew this was going to break Belle’s heart when she would wake up and realise it was gone. He had to do this, to protect her he had to hurt her. Hopefully, he prayed, Belle would understand one day.

Malcolm stood leaning against the railing outside the cannery, with not a single soul around them in the dead of night. Malcolm, upon seeing Nick’s broken expression smiled in delight. He knew he had gotten what he bargained for, like a child getting the candy it demanded.  

“Here’s the money, and the ring. Now _leave._ And never return, or there will be hell to pay.” Nick growled at his deadbeat father, handing him the envelope and leaving before Malcolm could get in another word.

“I’m actually quite shocked, Nicky. Was it that easy to steal your wife’s precious ring to you?” Malcolm laughed, and Nick knew he shouldn’t let himself be goaded by his father’s taunts, he should keep walking, before he does something he will regret. Just keep walking, keep walking.

Nick turned back around, and Malcolm continued.

“You know why you despise me so much, Nicky? Because you’re afraid of _becoming_ me. Of everyone, including Belle, seeing who you really are. A coward.”

Something overcame Nick, and suddenly his hand was around Malcolm’s throat, and he was pushing his father against the old and rattly railing.

“ _I am nothing like you!_ I didn’t abandon my family! I didn’t squander away our money, I’m not selfish!” Nick screamed, and Malcolm laughed still.

“The harder you force that to be true, the more the truth shows! We’re one in the same, you and me. Look how easily you betrayed your wife. _Just like me._ One day she’ll see who you really are, and she will _fear you,_ and what you are capable of.”

**_“NO!!!”_ **

Gold pushed, and the weight of Malcolm against the railing gave way, the weakened iron bar breaking free of the dock and sending Malcolm plummeting into the water.

Gold held tightly onto the remaining railing that was still stable next to where Malcolm fell, and watched as his body floated to the surface face down. He was picked up by the currents, and drifted out to sea faster than Gold could comprehend was had happened. What he had done.  

 


End file.
